The Uphill Slide

There is always something.



It was the time between night and day. That time when I want to crawl back into bed to hide from light. But as the dawn, I will brighten with each minute.

My headlights lead. In the distance a trio of small bobbing lights and then a small fluid one coming closer. The biker and I pass each other. The joggers bob along and disappear behind me. The night dream jolts into focus. Moving headlamps coming at me in a dark limestone room. The light hides the faces. Here I am back in theĀ mushroom mines.


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