Trembled Breath

a personal experience

Under the light of the pale sun bursting with magnificent sadness. He cries out, "Speak to me," as the belts wrap around his children's necks, concluding with the struggle and the strangle. All I could say were the words unforgotten and all I could hear were the sounds of the same pitch. Then roaring. Then silence. Like that of a Summer's night in the middle of the ocean. Big. Loud. Piercing. Small, again. The tricycle jester then reveals himself with his eyes as black as a moonless night and a smile so sinister I could see through to the devil. Then without notice, he was gone. And I was left with a highway of thoughts and possibilities, but could not move for I was in fear of those very thoughts I had come up with. Another deep breath, and memory fades.