Sleep is interrupted by a melting parking lot near a brick church. Something is so close, anxiety breaks.
"I never want to let this go."
Muddied, disfigured, the concrete melts away. A forest grows tall in it's place. A bench is orphaned on top a hill looking down at a lake. An old man's voice penetrates all thought. His question lingers in the air. His eyes, disappointed, glare through me.
"Where are you going?"
I struggle to find a word, any word to combat his gaze, but nothing comes. Futility overwhelms my core. I failed and lost everything. The forest is caged by three fences. Climbing all of them. A coffee shop, a park guard, and a swing.
"I hated all of it!"
I can never stop those words from falling out of my mouth. I relive this moment again and again, only to arrive just to watch myself puke out my emotions over a hungover mess lying weakly in bed. I want to take it back, but I am always too late.
Fries find their way into trash bin just outside a hotel suite.
A bench by the river.
A game of pool at a housewarming party.
Then I wake. Haunted.
I think dreams are unanswered questions. lingering thoughts that were never resolved. The brain recalls and relives the complex equations, searching for their solution. What if one never comes? Am I forced to relive the same four memories until my memory gives?
Dreams suck.
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