I lie in my bed
I'm trying to sleep
The field in my head
Begins to count sheep
The first sheep are white
Next comes brown
There's something not right
I'm starting to drown
My headphones are on
Sound filling my ears
My covers are drawn
Escaping my fears
I then close my eyes
My soul starts to drift
The sheep start to cry
At the edge of the rift
I'm not quite sleep
But not quite woke
I'm not quite in water
Yet I begin to choke
My dream sucks me in
Whoops, I meant nightmare
In a place without wind
Gasping for air
YOU ARE READING
A suspiciously odd amount of Short Stories.
RandomHere's some stories that are small, may not have a beginning. May not have an ending. But they are what they are. Deal with it I guess. "//" - Super short writing bits. ">><<" - Short Stories.
