This work is copyrighted to the author Sunkra © 2011.

Don't remove the author information or make any changes

to this story. Do not redistribute this story in any way

without the author's explicit written permission. All

rights reserved.

---

This story was written as adult fiction. Any

similarities with any real life events and/or persons

are completely coincidental. Described characters and/or

events are fictional. Enjoy the story!

This story is about the inner depths of Sunkra the otter

boy's being, a small window to what lurks behind the

sunny happiness.

This story contains: no sex, emotion

Sunkra's lament.

The day has ended. Wether it's moonlight or the last

breath of the evening's sun lighting up his face, Sunkra

can't recognize the difference. He lays quietly in his

ridiculously huge bed, the sheets so empty and unable to

fill the void in his heart. He lives in a fishbowl, the

glass walls inviting the world outside to come in, even

though it's just a glance. Why won't someone come in?

The world outside seems to slumber, tranquil and

desirable. Uninterested. Slowly and without a sound the

boy rises up to a sitting position, his teary eyes

taking in the sights of the night. The ocean, the beach,

the city… they have all seem to have abandoned him, he's

all alone. Sunkra stumbles to his feet, the empty vials

of Glow shattering under his weight in between the

bedsheets, even though they're made of plastic and

aren't supposed to break this easily. The colours have

gone, a tranquil blanket of blandness which neither

warm nor cold has replaced them, filling the boy with

feelings very mixed and confused.

His hands touch the glass, "Look outside little one,

what do you see?"

A voiceless sentence uttered by someone other than

himself makes Sunkra wonder as he stands naked and

vulnerable for hallow eyes to see:"… Da world?"

The boy seems to cringe as he hears himself speak those

worlds, the shallowness, the pretense of happiness. His

life is filled with weaknesses of the flesh, hollow

friendship, materialism, emptiness…

Fresh tears stream down his cheeks, the picture of a

smiling older man and woman of Sunkra's species is

tucked away under the sleeve of his pillow. Why does he

hide it inside his own house? A hole inside of him which

cannot be filled with all the frivolous pleasures that

he calls a life. Where is his mate? Where is his counter

part? Is something missing or is he having a bad guilt

creeping up on him from the back of his mind?

Sunkra feels sadness and pain, yet his mind is numbed

down so that he is less aware of those emotions, his

soulless stare just gazing outside into the world at

night. A tap. A crack. He's falling in a rain of

millions of sparkling little diamonds. Going down, tens

of floors down and the ground is rushing to make his

acquaintance. Welcome, Sunkra, allow me to shake your

hand! Welcome to our society.

Boom. You're dead. Awesome.

Spluttering, Sunkra rises from his bathtub, water has

filled his nose and throat. He reaches for grip and

manages to lift himself out as his chest heaves in

pained efforts to clear his airways. He cries and curls

up in a shivering, cold and pathetic little ball on the

floor of his bathroom. Won't someone touch him? It hurts

so much.