Sarah knew; that night; what was to come. The shadow of a wolf; baked into the wall behind her. The eyes on the back of her mind distract her ego from suffering.
She is ridden with existential dread; her anxious mind deviously clocking her out just before emotional climax. She remains conscious of her insecurities.
The paper was a milky white in front of her, with many strokes along the surface in ink. The words “To Be a Complete Stranger in Paradise” are scribbled along the table. The ink is half charred. Smoke fills the room. The walls are logs of brown tree. The brand of tree is unknown.
Sarah does not consider this logic valid. Her mind is trapped in a loop.
She takes the pen from beside the paper and scrapes the paper; the wounds of spacial fabric began to take form. Ash forms in the cracks. “This is Dr. Heckle; This is Mista Clyde. Not me. Not me.” Sarah’s trapped in mind. Sarah is trapped in mind.
Death results in a new beginning for the mind; through ego death we can accomplish much. Sarah knows this!
Where to?
On the southern hemisphere of this planet exists four cores of inter-dimensional travel equivalent to the time it takes to… well, you get the idea.
You cannot see beyond time. You control space. Sarah knows that!
“What’s this map a guideway into?”
Tick tock; tick tock.
Tick tock.
feverdreamwolf ♡ 