I can recall hearing phantom melodies. Pacing back and forth across the linoleum floor made a muted sound of deafening silence. A hushed breath escapes as I cracked my fingers; an inherent need to fix them, but they were never broken to begin with. The sounds move too quickly to see, but the blur is vivid enough for me to follow. So that's what I did, chased after it down countless roads with no beginning or end in sight. Surrounded by darkness, the ground beneath gave way as I fell into a loop of overwhelming fear - but waking up isn't as easy as you'd think.

You

Gyles Bartle