In the Zone of Twilight Terror

jolted out of a fluid fuzzy fragmented dreamscape into the sharp dark ruminating ruins of reality (it is very late in the evening very early in the morning) a paralyzed brain pleads for mercy in a moribund purgatory anticipating another shock another loss another step closer to the endgame cars furtively growl out of a deceptively quiet complex in the gloaming a gurgling gut gags on pulsating waves of dread awaiting another arrow of entropy another firestorm another bolt out of the baleful bog a chorus of singing birds sweetly taunts the crumpled man clinging to a rumpled bed (it is very early in the morning very late in the evening) there are no answers only pleas in the zone of twilight terror