Moth to the flame

Grey clouds take over the sun, plunging the city into a premature night. Streetlights flutter on, like reluctant children being rudely awaken. Hunched on a park bench, I watch moths surrendering to the flames, and flinch with each crackle and sizzle. If I stand on tip-toe, balancing on the back of the seat, I can…

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Dreamland

I woke from the dream disoriented and afraid. Like no other dream I could remember, it was so real and still so surreal. I reached for the pen and notepad I keep at my bedside with the intention of writing down the details before all recollection of the night vision was lost. Only the pad…

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