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I sketch the impressions that even now fade away. A night sky, a street filled with teens partying, cavourting, fighting. They close around me, and I just manage to break away.

Another street, with darkened brownstones, and commercial buildings in the distance. I walk with someone I call a friend, although I do not recognize him. We enter one of the commercial buildings, then a spartan lab of some sorts. A black leather-back chair, like in a dentist’s examination room, rests near off-gray walls, facing a wall-mounted wide-screen monitor. A white-coated doctor, who resembles the antagonist of the Netflix series “The OA” places a wired helmet on my head.

I race through new crowds, whose masses reshape before my every thought, and locales blend and bleed like melting ice cream under an August sun.

This doctor is not a good man. I must break away from him, for he wants what no one should possess. I glance in a mirror. A woman’s smooth face and blond hair glances back, identical to the protagonist of the OA.
I escape, only I don’t, because I encounter the doctor again. And again. And again!

Night continues. Everywhere I run is this cityscape that never ends.


a robin song


#NaPoWriMo2019 / GloPoWriMo2019 21/30

WD April PAD 2019 21/30

Poets United’s Poetry Pantry #477 (posted by Sherry Blue Sky)

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