Am I dreaming, or somehow awake? I can almost hear Dad: his absolute, direct, self-confident tone filled. I feel a burst of his frenetic energy.
Someone calls out, “Dad!” It’s me. Someone cries, “Help!” Also, me.
Corridors shrouded in gray appear. Is he here? Is this purgatory?
Or hell?
breaking dawn –
fresh blood flowing from
reopened wounds
first published in Image Curve, November 8, 2018
Frank J. Tassone 
Leave a comment