Flesh Tunnel

Just another dream.

Back in black.

We go down a dark, dank hallway.

The walls. The ceiling. The floor.

All gray, all the same texture.

I stand, dressed in black. My fists are down, clenched, in front of my crotch.

A group of young children dance at my feet, dressed in their Sunday best.

"A tisket, a tasket, a flower making basket" they sing.

I look down at them, my face twisted into incomprehensible rage.

I raise my arms, resting them on the walls of gray flesh.

I dig my fingers into the walls.

The walls vibrate as an abdomen would if it were surged with electricity.

The children fall to their knees, holding their hands over their ears... screaming.

I cackle. My eyes roll up into the back of my head as I nod, licking my teeth.

I release my hold of the walls, and the children slowly get back to their feet.

And then the process starts all over again.