He hadn’t felt like this in ten years. He could vividly recall the last time he felt this way, and he remembered how it felt when it seemed like the demon was gone, exorcised. But, it would appear, the Darkness was biding its time, growing, weaving its heavy tentacles throughout his being. Now, he felt it through every millimeter of his existence.
Never enough.
So the song goes.
Never. Never.
So he felt.
So it seemed.
Happiness a memory,
A fleeting dream.
He longed to escape,
to leave,
to flee,
this place.
Utah? A friend asked.
No. Not Utah.
This place.
This hell.
This existence.
