Falling


I was falling.  Falling.  I tried to move, tried to do anything at all, but it wasn’t possible.  Some invisible force was pushing me down, slowly, ever so slowly killing me.  I couldn’t scream.  Or yell.  Or say anything at all for that matter.  The same force that was preventing me from moving was stopping all attempts at talking as well.  If I can’t do anything, not even think properly, does that mean that I don’t really exist?  It was a frightening thought.  One that I didn’t particularly like.  Am I just somebody’s dream, only to disappear when they wake up?  Somewhat, I liked that thought better than an eternity of falling.

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