• Sixty-One

    23

    I wake to the sight of five shadowy black pulses wafting through the doorway into my bedroom and approaching my bed. And that’s it. I sit up, fully roused. The shadowy pulses are gone. They didn’t just disappear. They might’ve…

  • Sixty-One

    22

    I wake to the dream I’m in a world of broken glass. It’s everywhere: glittering slivers wafting in the air I breathe; jagged shards cobbled in the path I stand upon; serrated flakes that are tiled in glimmering fields, before…

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