I am standing at the edge of a room,
or maybe a life,
unsure if I should turn on the overhead lights
or just retreat into the familiar dark.
Fear isn't a monster hiding in the closet anymore;
it seems to be always with me.
A companion of sorts,
working to make me regret asking what’s next.
About the Creator
Archery Owl
Father and Friend
Telegram: @archeryowl
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Becca
"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.
By Sara Wilson8 days ago in Fiction
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