Sighing and moaning, she took away my comfort. That's twice now with two different culprits.
But, the same situation. No drive to change it. Black and white cannot meld to make a rainbow. Only grey. Deep earth-shattering grey.
But enough of that. I have a story to tell.
I had a dream that I was in a foggy plastic bag. I clawed my way out with fingers painted black, brown and rustic red. I saw green and white. Blinding white that the green tried so hard to hide. A forest of sorts it seemed. I couldn't see myself in body but, I knew I was nude. I didn't bother to take a look. I creeped across the forest floor shedding the bag from me like skin. The sunlight, the white burned and scathed me.
I fell under a tree, back pressed tightly to the bark. A black bird fluttered close and then away. Suddenly it burst apart as if it were a balloon floating into a pin. Tart and spicy a scent burnt my nose. Like on a live wire transfer it came to me. Gunpowder.
As quickly as the information had come, so did the next shot. It whizzed past, taking off my kneecap. A clean shot. A dull, dirty pain set in. It felt metallic and dark. I finally looked down, a sight of one creamy pale knee. The other, black and purple-hued red.
Then, I woke up. No crying and screaming. No sweating. Just a tender knee...
Iteration · Sat Oct 21, 2006 @ 12:24am · 2 Comments |