Stream of Consciousness
The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Twelve
On this hellish morning, I’m carrying forty pounds of water on my shoulder for money. Something is strange about this neighborhood. None of the house numbers are in order, and there are no doors, and I don’t know where I’m going. So I sit in the dry basin and crack open a bottle. There’s a tree in the distance. A little kid chases flies around it. When he notices me across the way, he screams, “Wake up!”
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
