I don't know why I'm doing this.
Honestly, I guess I just couldn't hold it back any more.
It's early, before the sun.
For the third time in a week, I've woken in these dark hours, battling to cling to wisps of a dream.
I've been medicating my way to sleep for years now, and dreams were an early casualty.
Typically, sleep is a brief jaunt into the void followed by a piss and a cup of black coffee.
Dreams are a rarity, so even these lingering phantasms are worth a mention.
First, it was a long dark [redacted].
Am I being chased?
Barely worth remembering, until three days after I followed the [redacted] and it led to a glimpse of a long jagged [redacted] in a [redacted].
Today, I walked that dark [redacted] again, and saw a man standing at the end, was he watching silently as I approached?
Each morning after one of these single frame dreams, I woke with a distinct sort of static tone ringing in my ears.
I can't place it.
I can still hold the image of that man at the end of the hallway.
A backlit shadow, his coat nearly to the ground behind him.
That static tone growing louder as I walk to him, but his face never falling into the light.
I don't know why this is worth mentioning.
Something is in motion.
This was not the beginning.