.
.
I feel sure something is closing in. Darkness, death, hard mean things. The Sandman can send anything of fiction, even some things of fact, and not win. I have died in my dreams. I don't know if that would be fatal to you. I just know it hasn't been for me. Past performance is no guarantee of future truth? There are things he could send. My kill switch for those is iffy, or at least rusty.
Some work. Not all of it. Pizza! It's been a while. That ol' Sandman comes. Wears almost as many hats as I. Wouldn't surprise me if we have filled in for one another. Even so, he has his job, I have mine, at this point. Good night.
May not see it, but there are prayers. Don't blink, you'll miss them.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Backsass Here