Dr Chicavonov Monologue

If you would have asked me four years ago if I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Cresco, I would have told you I would rather put a gun in my mouth. But, hell, I have to admit Swan was right, it ain’t so bad at all being stuck at home. And, I also have to admit, Swan ain’t so bad either now that I’d gotten to know her. It appeared that her cold-as-ice demeanor which she showered me with when I had first met her was more-or-less, an act. Over the past four years, she has softened up to me quite a bit, and I to her. I still would never cross her though, and I still believe her when she said that she would put a bullet in my head if I ever fucked her. It wouldn’t be so much because of my betrayal, but because it would be her job, something she takes deadly serious. I’ve learned a lot of new things about myself, too, in
I guess, I could honestly say I do decay. I just do it at a much slower rate than your standard dead body. About a thousand times slower, maybe more. I’m also given what’s called an “Elixir” by Dr. Chicavonov. He says it is to help the cellular pervasion in me. I’m not told what it truly is, though. I’m never told anything, really. And after the first few years of asking I finally stopped inquiring. But, I suppose it’s some form of formaldehyde because I can smell it sometimes coming out of me, especially during those hot Iowa summer days. I guess it’s not all that bad though because it allows me to continue to look at myself in the mirror without seeing the typical yellow jaundice of dead skin and clouding of my irises. For the most part, I would say I still look like I did when I died four years ago. A bit more tightening and darkness, and maybe a touch of a waxy appearance is a bit prevalent now to my skin. My toenails also have a blackish hue to them but that’s about it. At least, I don’t have flies buzzing around my