Flowers in the Concrete
Sitting in my room, I offered a passing glance to the light fixture. A reflective, rectangular fixture of bright white that contained a neon bar of LED bulb in it. For a moment there was an ominous candle wax dripping from the chips in the paint. As it hit the floor it began bubbling and raced it’s way to the bed in the corner of my room, almost as if the whole room was tilted towards me. Out of the wax emerged a raven about the size of the twin bed. It hopped sort of playfully towards me, spread its wings and began it’s flight in my direction, getting smaller and smaller with each flap of its wings. I could hear it calling my name though it’s mouth remained closed. I blinked and it was gone. The floor returned to regular linoleum, unstained and without a single burn. I turned to my roommate and he had a look on his face made up of worry and slight disdain. I’ve been trying to get your attention, dick head. The staff called a smoke break. Smoke break? So be it.