17 039. Dreams

It was the very first words that fell out of me that day. The very first ones. Well, a steady flow of words always ran through me like a river that seem to be connected to my blood. As long as that would be pumped around, so would the river flow. However, sometimes that river would seem deep and dark and almost too calm. Usually it would be so in the mornings. I couldn’t always be sure if it was my fear painting it, or if the river actually changed colour. Anyway, no point in going too close before I was ready to swim and fight for my life if necessary. The currents are sometimes hidden, and you can never know what you will find lurking at the bottom. I could never know whether or not I would get swept up by a wave of self-destruction. This could be a small and subtle one, just about touching a pebble on the bank, not even lifting it. It would still risk carrying me away.