I waded to the middle of the river and was swept along, searching, searching. I was high in the air but tumbling downward trying to catch you. I stared at the screen until my eyes were dry and sore. I ran down the street pushing past shoppers, over and over. I shouted, screamed, shouted. I turned the key in the lock but the lock fell to the ground so I picked it up and it fell to the ground again and again. Every time I asked for peace a clock clanged the hour. Every time I saw you I awoke.
I woke from a sleep that was dominated by nightmares; or, at least, I began to wake. I think I did. The images of a sleep’s horror were still a storm in my mind, dark thoughts dissolved in the tears that drenched my closed eyes.
There, waiting, eyes closed, almost too painful to look. Almost to think – almost – that it would be better for the terror to continue than to hope it is near its end and then open your eyes to find it continues and you have failed to shake it off.
But I can sense light, I can.