The Vague Sense That I Am DyingSometimes when I wake up, I get the vague sense that I am dying.More Like This
That in my dark room, where I can only see a little light through the north-facing blinds, and where I am all alone in my warm and disarrayed bed, I think I might be dying.
And I pick up my phone, thinking I'll call someone. But I never do, because really, who would I call? Emergency services would not know what to do with me. My parents are at work or otherwise not necessarily available.
Then I decide I do not want to say good-bye, because it would be sad, and I might even cry at the scene.
So I lay there a bit longer, lingering to see if I really am still alive or have much time left, enough to rise again. And after a good while, I can breath freely again, and my chest loses much of its tension, and I realize that I am alive, and I have survived another day.
It is a little sad, to die alone. I think I do each morning, even as I am overall surviving. I've been thinking of death a lot recently.
Even though my days go so s
SacrificeMore Like This
A rustle in the bushes.
A fleeting glimpse of a black pelt.
A glint of a blue eye.
The scent of desperation.
These are the things that a cat would have experienced, had one been there that night. But no cat was. No cat would ever know.
A tiny squeak. The black cat set what she was carrying down, tenderly. She licked it's black ear, and a sad smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.
"Mommy ?" It mewed sleepily.
"Ssshhh, now, my sweet Do not speak, or we will be discovered." The tiny kit nodded, scared. She picked it up again. She lithely manoeuvred through the trees, her black pelt bleeding into the shadows. But the kitten's white pelt stood out, it was a beacon. At the moment, this was bad, but it would hopefully be the thing to save her life Suddenly, there was a rustle behind the black cat. A scent hit her, and her blue eyes widened. With pupils dilated, she bounded forward. Her fur stood up on end, as she heard the sound of some