There’s an ominous hum reverberating through these desolate parts. The floor is wet.. damp. These concrete tunnel walls; cold. The smell of dank mildew is immersive; it seeps through my respiratory system, deep into my bronchioles and capillaries.
The hum gets louder the deeper I get.. rattles my mildewed capillaries. The water alongside is a river flowing black.. plump with the juices of unknown places.. contents unknown. I’m reminded of a familiar phrase that I always tell myself when darkness looms: “Wherever there is negative space darling, there is infinite possibility. Fear itself dwells in the shadows, but by following love and light; by utilizing one’s inner flame.. true transformation awaits. Everything beautiful is, afterall, born from darkness..”
“What was the equipment you used to hold the load down?”
“It 10 had dogs and chains”
Dogs and chains
Dogs and chains
Dogs and chains
She walked in through the 11th floor, sunlight beaming on the glass with morning dewdrops. She tripped over a jarrah log laid out in the middle of the hall. She landed on her palms, arms straight. Collarbone cracked. She got up, she dusted off her doll’s dress. 5 dogs at the eastern side of the 11th floor barked at her. 5 dogs, 5 chains.. barked at her from the eastern side of the 11th floor. She wore her grief on her hips, she hissed back at them.. eyes adrift. She dusted off her doll’s dress, she wandered further up the hall.
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