The Uphill Slide

There is always something.

A Hard Rain


Where was that running water? Why was someone running sandpaper over the back of my hand? Was that my heartbeat?

As I  gained consciousness, I could hear the allegro beats of rain on the driveway that perhaps woke me but were just as capable of lulling me back to sleep. The water filling the gutter outside my window was flowing over the edge like an expansive waterfall.

Vicious was snuggled next to me licking my hand with his abrasive tongue. I went back to sleep to the sounds of his rhythmic purring and the pounding rain. I returned to dream about a house with an old bowling alley haunted by laughing small girls from the early 20th century in ruffled dresses and hair ribbons.

When I awoke hours later with Vicious at my feet, it was to the strident sound of police sirens and fire engines.


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