Sunnandæg Reflections

—–The week’s meddlings.

—–Misery threatened to overwhelm him as he tried another deep breath that once more proved to be fruitless as it turned into another racking set of coughs that made him crack his head against the boards. The coughing didn’t seem to expunge the dirt coating his lungs and throat. He lay there feeling a trickle of blood make its way to his temple and into his ear. He didn’t even care; he hurt too much to care. Reaching his arms out to the sides he felt the empty air in each direction, he had tried to scoot along the ground through the crawl space, but with no idea which direction to go each wall, he ran into were just like all the rest.
—–He moved again, this time to his left for no particular reason. The rocks in the dirt below him dug deep into his back as he grasped the bottom of a floor joist to pull himself through the darkness. He had to exhale to squeeze through and under the joist to get to another section of confined space that seemed just like all the rest. He closed his eyes hard, trying to get the dust from them as he felt around. Bones, he felt bones in the dirt.


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