Dreams of Sleep
I yearn to dream and never wake.
To me, the great escape was always sleep. It is the closest one can get to death, as if we are softly caressing the veil between our world and eternity.
Solace is found in unconsciousness, a fact I assumed everyone knew but when it was taken from us, sleep that is, we all became slaves more so than we ever were.
What was supposed to free us, provide us with time we needed to accomplish more, instead drove us all to madness.
So now, on the brink of extinction, I write this as I lay awake and dream of sleep.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Mark Crouch and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Perfect Little Pirate
The rough, sodden rope bit into her fingers as she swung over the roiling water far below. Reaching out with the toe of her boot, she managed to catch hold of the rain-soaked railing of the ship- and promptly slipped. Throwing herself forward, she landed hard on the deck, slamming her elbows against the wood planks. The sharp yelp of pain quickly bubbled into a laugh, and she rolled onto her back, laughing up at the gray sky as a torrent of rain washed away the soot covering her skin.
By M. A. Mehan 4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.