š°
Send me š° for a glimpse at one of my museās nightmares!
The mine was different somehow, but he couldnāt place it. He walked around his normal route, alone. Usually there was a friend, human or canine. Today it was just him, and a multitude of heavy thoughts.Ā
He travelled deeper and deeper into the mine. He knew them like the back of his hand. Usually walking this circuit cleared his mind, but today was different.Ā
Heavy thoughts were like chains by the time he reached the end. His breath was labored, and his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight. Down here underground, it was dangerous to exert yourself. He couldnāt seem to regulate. He had to stop.Ā
At the end of the tunnel, just beyond him, was a light. He heaved and watched it grow, until it became obvious as to what it was. Fire. Fire in the mine.Ā
Suddenly there was no time to catch his breath. He had to run. Despite the oppression, he turned, only to find a collapse. Dread shocked his systems, he flung himself to the debris. The weight got heavier, the fire grew bigger, closer. He dug in vain, there was no way out.Ā
Suddenly the mine wasnāt a source of comfort. It was his grave. The firey death he managed to avoid as a child caught his legs. It had a strength, and pulled him away from the dirt and rock. Gasps for help went unheard. He was burning, suffocating. Pain, heat, panic, blackness.Ā
