Clayton remains in an oblivious slumber by my feet, announcing his indifferent stance on the recent events with voluminous snores -- loud enough to make any lawn mower proud. I'm overloaded. My eyes droop like the wax of a candle at the bottom of its wick. _No!_ I protest to myself. _You must make it back to the barn before you rest. You can do this Addison._ Up the hill I trudge. Past the blank headstone. Through the field of corn and into the Safe Haven barn. I collapse into a pile of old hay. Asleep as I fall. Falling. My body hits the soft hay like it's water -- catching my weight with a bob of buoyancy, and then I submerge as all support gives out. Sinking. Ground zero of my dream is the farm. Safe Haven barn sways beneath the hypnosis of water like corn stalks in the wind. I don't notice Clayton lying in a pool of his own death until a sharp and stealthy talon slides over my neck. My head tilts back. A cloud of my own crimson blood flows heavy, floating up, pooling at the surface. 2008-05-04T00:32:29Z http://ficlets.com/feed/story/29298 <p>Very surreal and really cool, too. Basically everything THX said&#8230;this whole ficlet has its own little sense of writing style that makes it distinct, like the other ones you&#8217;ve written. I like it.</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/29298?basename=60244 2008-05-04T00:32:29Z Stovohobo http://ficlets.com/authors/stovohobo <p>Trippy, freaky and disorienting. Not sure I know which way is up, but I know it&#8217;s good.</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/29298?basename=60239 2008-05-04T00:21:00Z THX 0477 http://ficlets.com/authors/thx_0477