Wednesday, 20 December 2006
last nights dream
In the background, rain flows down windowsills as monks chant, slowly, mournfully. My eyes can't seem to adjust to the light, even though it's soft, perhaps candles, because the light seems to rise and fall sporadically. My clothes are wet, and i'm lying on a hard tiled floor. I can feel the ridges of where each one starts and ends beneath me, and it hurts. I must be hurt, because I can't move, just whimper softly. And I'm afraid. I'm not sure of what, perhaps of whatever that hurt me. All I can feel is pain. It rises and falls as unevenly as the light, and the only thing I say is "please," over and over again in a strange accent.
# posted by Hil : Wednesday, December 20, 2006
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