The Blot

His ribcage rushed to fill a new birthed space. The night had been a barrel of dark dreams, yet despite this other demanding cosmos of himself, the daylight brought hope. Riding unhindered by personal perspective he relaxed as the bus took him to a world where lovers wrote themselves into a fantasy that bloomed into existence once imagined. Marveling as one silent, yet singing page turned another, marveling at the land that flowered with the voices of a redrawn past, (for all days now were turning perfectly). Almost… for he now noticed a blot, a small imperfect blot in the far corner of a blue sky. At that instant all the riders, all the watchers, and all the watched noticed the blemish. The bus screeched to a halt. People hurried to get off the vehicle as if terrified of staying, and yet terrified of leaving. His heart thudded deeply. His ribcage began to shrink as he found himself rolling over and over again inside the ribcage of a dreaming whale.