By Craig Wilson
Am inside the bus station, yet, it is actually cloaked in mist.
Also, like another dream, I cannot remember arriving here.
I walk around, yet, the interior of the station looks different.
Instead of a bus station, it looks a lot like an old coal mine.
I fall to my knees and clasp my hands on both of my ears.
There’s a horrible siren blaring in the air – like Silent Hill.
And, as always, I’m woken up by my phone’s alarm clock.
The End
The above story is a loose adaptation of a dream I had. If there is anything you would like to ask, feel free to leave a comment, and thank you for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment