The Big Red Truck is Coming Down the Street
The steps were longer than I remembered, so I stumbled. No problem, keep going.
I reached the window and stood there for a little longer than I sould. Things looked kinda normal, steady, as if they should happen the way they normally do. Normally. Normal. When did normal become synonym for boring?
I heard voices next door and wondered about the life they were leading. There was smoke. Was that me?
Something happened to my senses and I collapsed to the floor. Was there really any other place that I could collapse to?
The hardwood floors seemed warmer than expected, but there I stayed. The music I heard was loud and weird, and when did people start screaming?
I couldn't remember how all of that started, and an end seemed unlikely.
I dragged myself to the back of the closet and grabbed a blanket.
Was there something I should be doing?
I stayed there and thought of dreams.
The smoke was real.
So was I.
At last.
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