Dreams
My vision blurs and then slowly, my surroundings start to pull into focus: I'm in an empty room with cement block walls, wait not empty, there's a worn looking wooden chair. You know, the kind with thin wooden slats. As I slowly turn around, my vision blurs again.
I'm waking up on the dewy ground, grass blades stuck to my cheek. The sun coming up just over the horizon, a chill creeping down my spine.











