Unnatural

The graffiti is hellishly bright on the wall.

Purple faces grinning, white eyes smearing like tears. Green hearts encircling butterflies end in crosses. Black and pink and blue, loopy writing, jagged colors, never stopping, layering on top and on top and on top.

There’s a blue chair with green legs and it’s the ugliest piece of furniture he’s ever seen. Its blueness is unnatural, blueness like a kid’s blue raspberry tongue and his ex-girlfriend’s hair.

It’s all unnatural, all insane, and it spins around and around and around him until he blurs out entirely.