Krista Childers


The roots from the trees grow under my feet as I walk farther and farther. They wrap themselves around my tiny feet and make me trip. As I lie on the ground, I look at it now in a parallel state. The brown consumes me and I sink into the wet and tired earth. Down and down and down I go. I land on a bed where my dreams are distorted and red. I walk out the door and I am back where I started. I walk farther and farther and farther until the skyline resembles a sun catcher. The shadows chase me until I stop in my tracks. They dance around me like a childhood toy. They are crooked and cruel and I can't escape them. They push me to the ground and I am back where I started.


I walk farther and farther yet and I reach the ocean. The waves call me and I follow the sweet sound. The ocean heals my wounds and takes me down, down, down and I am back where I started. I walk yet again farther away than I’ve been. There is a man selling postcards of scenery and jokes. I pass him with a sly smile and a curse.


I follow the sounds of a carnival in the distance. The laughter makes me feel half alive instead of all dead. But then the faces of the children look distorted and pale and they make me want to cry. I watch a gluttonous man eat his ice cream in the corner and the tears pour down, down, down. A middle-aged woman loses her children, although they are at her side, and my eyes turn more crimson yet. A young girl on a date smiles politely as her date pontificates about his life and I can’t take it anymore. The boy is so sad to watch and I run all the way home. I run to my bed and let the monsters take me. There are monsters everywhere and I can't slow down down down down down.

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