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Weekly Contest #272
I do not awaken so much as arrive abruptly in an awake state. It is as though I drifted off mid sentence and my eyes open again a moment later. I discern only the deepest black. I am in a dark room—the attic? I know I’m at home—it smells like home. But why I slept up here. . . Cobwebs cover my arms and I shudder as earwigs slither beneath me. My neck aches and I wince, loath to touch it. My arms are stiff and I each breath feels like it is drawn through cotton. Caldwell and I must have had a fight, although I cannot remember the specific...
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