Fire, Fire, Fire

I can smell the smoke, as it rises above my bed and swirls out the open window. I can't see it in this dark space, but feel the air choke. The air thins, and breathing comes in rasps. Although I am stuck. Pinned down, awake and half asleep. It could be a dream? I could only be smelling the remnants of the battlefield my mind only just left. The scorched earth and burnt buildings.

The air is still, the mood sedated and all I can do is lie here and watch the dim glow turn into a pulsing light as the flames lick the edges of my bed and I know now that this is not the plague my dream has left, but the reality I woke up too.

Measurable Distances

So we put one foot in front of the other and forge on. Excited at the prospect of the future instead of savoring moments from a time when we were different people and the world was slightly ajar with the buzzing lights that kept me from seeing who I was. Now, we learn, we embrace and come to the point were things are as they seem. For perception is truly a reality that each and every person lives in.