dying

The obit­u­ary of al­ley: She was a young woman. Al­most too young, but she lived a fas­ci­nat­ing life. If you could call watch­ing net­flix and avoid­ing ‘chill’ ses­sions with fuck boys fas­ci­nat­ing. She en­joyed hor­ror movies to the ex­tent that you’d won­der whether or not deep down there was a se­r­i­al killer in­side. Though, in her death she proved to be sweet in­no­cent one that wasn’t in­no­cent in which land­ed her dy­ing slow­ly to­wards the end in the ar­ray of imag­i­nary char­ac­ters she cre­at­ed to sur­vive be­ing tor­tured. Sec­ond to last or from first to last if you want to be an emo band. Dy­ing as an un­ac­com­plished artist she vowed to haunt sev­er­al mu­se­ums around the globe tear­ing down fa­mous works of art and paint­ing blue ros­es as re­place­ment. Though like her least-favourite su­per­hero, su­per­man, she had the un­can­ny abil­i­ty to awake from the dead and re­turn to nor­mal hu­man be­ing. The obit­u­ary re­trac­tion will com­mence when al­ley be­gins to show col­or in her cheeks again.

—al­ley schef­f­ki

Flom­mist Al­ley Schef­f­ki is 23 years young, ‘I am the blue rose. Dies ist ein wun­sch für frei­heit.’ Copy­right © 2017 Al­ley Schef­f­ki.

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