The Day is Done

[

When the Day was Done

I woke to the sound of my heart pumping slowly.

I felt my lungs take a couple of ragged breaths. My eyelids, sticky with blood and crust, were swollen shut.

I was laying on my side, my hands bound behind me. I felt the cold dirt floor scratch roughly against my cheek.

I laughed briefly, coughed, and laughed again.

I was alive!

I heard him move. Continue reading

Dead Dreams

Dead Dreams

When I dream I dream of deserts. Dry dead wastelands, scuttling beetles scraping on molted gray trees.

When I dream I dream of despair.
Deserted cityscapes, angry red skies pierced by jagged metal peaks. Diseased red-eyed rodents, emboldened, angry, formidable.

When I dream I dream of death. Continue reading