Dreams

I’m walking down a corridor. I know what comes next.I walk into airlessness, I can’t breathe. A man presses his arms and knees into my throat and I can’t breathe.

The fight to wake becomes the fight to live.

I can’t scream. I can’t move. Something is choking the life, the colour, the creativity and the will out of me.

Next to me, he snores, undisturbed by my tortures.