Fading in, he hadn’t known much about the ring that bound him to existence with a promise that now he hadn’t memory of following. Recalling, and Xeroxing his steps, he couldn’t trace his fall, seismic fears quaked his legs to a sprawl, he couldn’t find the energy to even crawl to the edge, and to beat the living out of death. But it was equinox onward and on. The fire fades, and his eyes polished the blackness of a viscid liquid dropping out of someone’s arm, collected in tubes that shaded rainbow-colored cups. Was it a hospital? Or was it some kind of freak-show? He couldn’t decide, so he swept himself off the street where he found himself lounging an hour later. Each moment was a thought, at every points in time. The next thought inched further toward him, as he reached for a grave, and his thighs dwindled out…
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worldtraveller70 