Daily writing prompt

What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?

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it’s august 86th 4863, and after rushing to the kitchen for the 8th time in search of a knife, jack opens his eyes from his slightly hovered position over the stove. i try not to stare at the emptied emotions brought on by his latest brain prompt, “what the fuck are you doing?” he has the audacity to ask. we’re both assholes but today i need an alibi for the cuts on my neck or he’ll accuse me of self-harm again. “making dinner dipshit,” i answer before turning the stove on and waiting for him to scream.

there’s no sound other than our voices to prove reality is more than the series of props we’ve hallucinated and shared. even the blood dripping from my neck and walking across the concrete floor is silent.

it was july 46th when the medicine man told him i had a case of passion eroditis that could be cured with a bowl of cheerios. unfortunately the general, his mills, and his uncle toby haven’t been around for a million intercycles.

Jack and i are twins. he’s the dumb one. mom and dad died playing fortnite on february 99th. it was a replica of the game and replicas were illegal. everything that resulted in a winner or loser was illegal.

i try hard not to call jack a loser and he tries hard not to let me die. that would make me the obvious winner.