Sat here in a bathrobe, damp from the shower, and monster feet slippers that were someone’s idea of a tasteful Christmas gift, I clutch my coffee like my life depended upon it.
It does…
Wednesday. Gym day. I’m hung over, when not a drop of alcohol passed my lips yesterday.
For once.
The eyeless pale Gothic eight year old girl who haunts my nightmares, is smiling at me from a jagged bloodless maw carved in her face, padding around my girlfriend’s freezing home on bare feet. Her shiny cloven hoof boots are nowhere to be seen. Maybe Death’s Child forgot to pull them on this morning, when she misted out of The Void to be with me? Even the dead must be forgetful. Still, her lidless obsidian eyes are unblinking and she’s dressed in her funeral best.
I swallow another roughly chewed mouthful of cheap chocolate caramel wafer with my coffee, serving as breakfast. Then as my nerves set in, jagged as my young Void walker’s smile, I ask myself the question that comes every time I regain consciousness:
‘How can I fail today?’
Darkgingerbread 