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25 February 2008 @ 11:17 am
Bored. Writing random things.  
It was dark out and raining and he sat under a makeshift roof fashioned from stolen plywood nailed together and suspended in the air by ropes tied to the branches of the tree under which he sat a lone light bulb hanging by a wire thread lighting his head and the pages. It was a little shack he built in secret amidst man sized patches of unnamed grass somewhere away from everything. Its walls built from junk and metal and whatever else he could find at odd hours of the night.

The light flickered. And went out. He looked up. About a foot away was a crack in the walls and through it he could see the moon. He stared at its pale face for a while and put the book down. Asked himself what to do next he answered back and sighed and made his way through a plastic curtain sheet that was the only door to the rickety chamber. Out and about.

He made his way through the grass until he reached a dirt road and followed it to the crossroads eyes open for car lights and the green flashes of cat eyes as they wandered silently like shadows in the cool night chasing dreams in the breeze. Standing right dead center inbetwixt the four way coupling of road he saw a wide concrete building to his left looming like a lonely shadow breaking the even face of the distant horizon. No windows but concrete slabs as walls for the first floor and then the second floor jutting out in a balcony. He saw beds of children laid out them curled up under covers with rain falling on their heads for the roof did not stretch out that far. It reminded him of a dream he had once.

He made his way towards the bunker. Foot after foot on soil and marsh and puddles and grass. The path lit by the moon and serenaded by the constant patter of rain drops and the songs of crickets and frogs. In his dream the building was lit on one side by a string of fluorescent bulbs strung up with wires like some sort of makeshift christmas decoration in early october. It seemed so clear now even after all these years. He's had many dreams then. And even more that were lost to the fleeting wind of memory. Cities and citadels and men and minotaurs and everything amidst a cool haze that hung low over the streets luminated by a permanent twilight.