Excerpt from the third chapter of Bleakpoint, "Day 136". "In that parallel, dreamworld translation of my bedroom, I opened my dreary eyes and transitioned from my slumber like a butterfly from its cocoon. I gently tugged away the bedding that warmed me and slid off the mattress to cautiously land on the stone floor. It was cold, as usual. Just as cold as the entryway’s door knob that I approached so skeptically, slowly raising my anticipant fingers to touch. If aliens were truly watching from beyond the walls, they would silently record how I acted as if I expected this familiar object to jump out at me. As if the metal knob would stretch like some kind of scaly skin, for the keyhole to rip open and grow teeth about its inner circumference. As if I awaited the inanimate doorknob to jump at my fear-filled veins, latching onto and shredding the flesh that lay above them. But as any reader’s thoughts would surely mimic, I was unsure whether this dreamworld was pleasant or unpleasant. I did not know if its contents were intriguing, wondrous and enticing, or gruesome, twisted and nightmarish."
Posted on: Sat, 08 Jun 2013 20:22:03 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015