Port Selao
It’s 3:30AM. I was woken up by the sounds of gunfire in the distance and now I can’t get back to sleep. With my window glass gone, the sounds and the heat are more unbearable. I had a terrible dream – a nightmare really. I was standing at my window staring down at the bomb’s aftermath. The young boy with the missing arm was clutching that woman’s hand. He was pointing her crooked finger at me. He opened his mouth to speak and the most demonic scream pierced my ears. There was more but I don’t think I can bring myself to write it. Maybe when daylight comes.




















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