Word Count: 301
I am diminished by nightmares. Horrible images flash through my mind in their three-second clarity. Blood running redder than that in my veins. Cliffs that cut open the sky from which people like lemmings tumble over and down. In that instant I recognize faces: the science professor from college I liked; the cashier at Wood-Mart with the big friendly smile; my dentist from childhood; my very first love.
Over and over they loop through my nights. Like a fast-fleeting subway train flickering lights through the windows. A still-animation of those I met once, lived with a while, discarded.
I walk through my days a shadow of self, slices peeled off in the nights. I am bare of illusions, hope and belief all gone.
This is my hell. My living has turned into dying a night at a time. Years shed like scales from my eyes.
Why hadn’t I seen it while my vision was clear? What blip on my screen went unnoticed?
Tonight, with what little is left of my soul, I know I will not see morning. There is not enough of me left to reason it out. The good things I’ve let fall from my grip as I reached out for things I knew nothing about have passed hissing their way through my memory and into my dreams.
But the next day I wake up and try to catch hold of the wind and the things that it offers. The old man on the corner, his face crumpled under his hat and his hand held out, shrunken and black. A young woman with songs in her eyes. A child holding hands with a toddler, keeping him close to his side.
I grab it in handfuls, swallow each moment, and plod my way back into night.
hey you’re on a dark path indeed but you do it so well, i can see this turn into a collection with cult following. these are wonderfully visual and best of all, i want to keep reading them.
Thank you so much, Marcus! The dark side is really where I went in my readings and first writings back as a teenager. Mystery, detective, evil sci fi, and then Poe exploded inside me.