The empty void I see when I hurry past the open well fills me with horror, more than once I’ve had to rediscover that the nightmares which plague me in daydream just cannot be thwarted. If ever I sleep, it is thick and dark, and if too I dream I remember nothing.

Sometimes the work of my own imagination sprouts legs and runs after me… others’ imagines have been commenced at times, but then abandoned in my brain. Nobody but me is as skilled in the craft of self-induced terror (then again if otherwise it wouldn’t be self-induced at all). Nobody understands it in the way that I do.

All those invisible horrors.

The monstrous trees give me safety and their shadows whisper words of comfort. Outside, here, the air is filled with the fragrance of something more

the moonlight floods my body with a ghostly warmth, unlike any cold white light inside here ever could.

I lean towards it closer, clinging to the edges of the rock til morning.