Writing Exercise #4

Honestly, who gets crushed by fucking unfolded, heavy-ass cardboard boxes? Oh yeah, right, I do; the luckiest man alive! Well, since I am still alive, I’m 100% probably gonna die of starvation and not suffocation. What a shame. I should’ve took that last cinnamon roll Harry offered me before he left. He prolly tossed it or shoved it back in his locker. If I get out of this, I’m not turning down food ever again; unless it sucks, or it’s bad, or it’s spaghetti: fuckin’ spaghetti. I wonder how long it’ll take before someone finds my decomposing corpse? Will my corpse decompose? Maybe if some ants crawl under here with me, or maggots. I’ll pray for maggots; they only eat dead flesh. It’s getting hot in here; maybe I should stop talkin' out loud.