BIO-HAZARD
I am aware of the trail I leave. My brain is full of spikes; my head nods, and one slips shaped like an icicle crashing to the ground. But it isn’t cold, no, it sheers a hole clean through the bedrock. I am tempted to toss a stone and count, but I cannot bend over for fear of the consequences. Kilimanjaro is squatting on my doorstop and I must navigate the tangled viper wires without touching my skin; it is so frail it wafts off with the gentlest breeze. My lungs gulp in streams of steam, and exhale chunks of dust. The hall is a catacomb, dank and full of spider webs resembling the dead, my personality slowly disintegrating with each pulsing step. If only I could reach my bed, I just might save the world. © Copyright Melanie Mills. All rights reserved.
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