I passed over the stone bridge and into the silent rows of buildings in the alien quarter. It was the middle of the night and the air was untouchable, a foggy cloth that separated as I passed through it. Night sounds were soft, muffled, driven like tunnel vision. I had an open wound on my chest through which my eyes called her name. I found myself moving ghostlike into the alien quarter, drawn there as though a magnet had attached me to the path of its forces. How often I had returned to haunt these dreary ways in the dark hours. I have met the dangerous, mad creatures that dwell here and they have met me. And sometimes I wonder if I am not one of them. I have murdered telepathically, I have killed souls with my eyes. I, too, wear a face from the ancient gallery. As my steps took me closer to the place where I had once found her and lost her, I heard the red sounds of animals tearing at each other. I turned my eyes toward the alley and I saw the thrashing bodies rolling in the dark and then, faintly, I heard a cry for help.
What do You think about Dreams That Burn In The Night?
