Chapter 41: Meal

in a reoccurring

nightmare,

there is

a pack of rabid bullets

smelling one of my

old t-shirts,

hungry

and salivating

at the scent.

they find me with my

hands up, they don't

ask if I'm guilty,

they just eat

until their jaws

are tired

and wipe their

mouths clean when

the meal is over.