Date: null
Title: the long walk

His feet pained him each step he took.  It was a long walk
but 30 miles back he had decided he would endure anything even
though it had entered his mind that maybe this was part of one of
her dreams and not real at all.  In fact, way off, over the horizon,
beyond visions' realm he sensed some sort of enormous alarm clock,
springs tense, waiting waiting to strike out at dreams and regain the
reality of real air and consciousness.  He felt his arm move as the
jangling invaded his sleep and allowed his hand to fall downward finally
slapping with open hand the top of the clock which had just at that very
moment emitted one or maybe two dings or dongs or clangs or clungs.
His feet hurt and as he reached down to rub them he realized he could
not see.  It was pitch black dark with the unseen hand in front of face
intensity.  Blisters.  Blackness. His mood changed immediately.  He
cursed the darkness, fool that he was.   He lit not one candle. He did
not reach for the flashlight.  He was unwilling to move to the light
switch.

sple.net.ic \spli-'net-ik, archaic 'splen-*-(.)tik\ \spli-'net-i-k(*-)le-\
   aj [LL spleneticus, fr. L splen spleen] 1: SPLENIC archaic  2: given to
   melancholy 3: marked by bad temper, malevolence, or spite - splenetic n

Happy Thursdays.

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