In this corner

Dreamt this morning I’d gotten wedged against a brick wall, back-first, because my wings had failed and I’d fallen from the sky. I didn’t dream of flying, or falling. My dream started with counting the cracks in my spine and wondering how the hell I’d stand up and get out of the rat-hole I’d landed in. Rough pavement had chewed up my right cheek. A puddle of dirty water threaded toward my face. I couldn’t speak. Footsteps.

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