![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 8, Title: Chiaroscuro Dreaming
Feb. 5th, 2016 09:26 pmShe’s running. Running. Running. Lungs burn. Gunpowder scent surrounds. Ears ring. Eyes see only greys. It’s too dark. More gunshots. Running. Running. Running. Mud squelches underfoot. Hands brace against a perpetual fall, battering away branches. Running. Running. Running.
Impact. Pain shines. Radiates. Engulfs. She falls.
*
She wakes to a soft light streaming through the window, covers held warmly to her, turns to see the love of her life by her side. She smiles a crooked smile. Just a bad dream, that’s all. It’s a Saturday and they walk in the park. It’s bright, almost ethereal. She breathes in the scent of freshly mown grass. They have a picnic with overly jammed sandwiches and lie down to look at the clouds. She thinks one looks like a dragon. She closes her eyes.
*
She wakes to copper. Blood. Sticking, spreading. Pain and dark. She moves her limbs until she can lift her body from the ground. Screams. A cold floor and heavy latches. She bangs her hands against the metal walls until exhaustion lays her down.
( Read more... )
Impact. Pain shines. Radiates. Engulfs. She falls.
*
She wakes to a soft light streaming through the window, covers held warmly to her, turns to see the love of her life by her side. She smiles a crooked smile. Just a bad dream, that’s all. It’s a Saturday and they walk in the park. It’s bright, almost ethereal. She breathes in the scent of freshly mown grass. They have a picnic with overly jammed sandwiches and lie down to look at the clouds. She thinks one looks like a dragon. She closes her eyes.
*
She wakes to copper. Blood. Sticking, spreading. Pain and dark. She moves her limbs until she can lift her body from the ground. Screams. A cold floor and heavy latches. She bangs her hands against the metal walls until exhaustion lays her down.
( Read more... )