A Day of Denial – Dead Deer

A Day of Denial

Wake up. Let it in. It comes in whether requested or not. Chew it over. Rolling around the head as a piece of grit may roll around an oyster shell. This is not a piece of grit, however, it is a large heavy uneven stone clanking about hurting as it bangs its way around, and around and around.

Nor will it produce a beautiful small bean, with that subtle lustre. No, all it produces is blackness, ever growing; in size as well as hue; ever darker, blacker than black.

Stop it. Stop the weighty ball of uncomfortable thought. Is it too late? It is there, it is too big, it doesn’t even fit in the head any longer. How to stop it? Think other thoughts, better yet; think no thoughts. Is that possible? Push it out, slowly slowly, close the boxes. The tentacles thrash out of the lids, try harder. The lids are closed, the wriggling appendages are captured for now, pull the duvet up over the haunted head.

Now. How to get out of bed?

Days such as these, every day, are days without end. Willing the time to pass quicker; yet willing the days to not still come. On days like this shut out the reality, ignore the world around you, build moment by moment a bubble around you, a bubble of now. It is not happening. On days like this the only hope is to maintain a full day of denial.

Today I wrote from 08:30 to 08:40

November Writing Prompts – Read more from the Dead Deer and follow it.

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