Day 126

There are no windows here.
There are no doors.
The walls are bone.

This is what you find yourself dreaming of every night.
Each time something small changes.
The bones move, the room grows and shrinks.
You grow used to this, weary of it even.

Last night however, everything was different.
You were surrounded by creatures whose heads were tree trunks,
somehow supported by their sickly thin bodies.
They stood in puddles of tar and pointed to you.

You can see them clearly when you close your eyes, as if they are
hiding inside your mind and waiting for you to sleep once more.
Waiting for you to join them in the bone room.

And then they moved out.
Out of your thoughts, out of your mind and into your life.

When you went outside you saw them on the street.
They moved freely about, still pointing at you.
One brushed right past you and you felt your heart stop for a second.

You hear a faint tapping on your window.
They are crowded outside.
The bone room awaits and their impatience grows.