Dream, First Full Night of the Year
I am one of four men entrusted with delivering refugees
from a disputed territory. The road lays over bare hills and open
fields. Everyone carries only what they need. I carry
their memories, so I can only take half a step at a time.
When the first bomb explodes by the roadside, the others
are already far ahead of me. The memories are important
but sometimes you have to outrun memories to escape.
I am cresting a hill, beyond it are more hills and small fires
where the bombs have landed. Gunfire bounces off the road
nearby and I break from the path, dropping nothing,
staying low. Somewhere there have to be trees, undergrowth,
a forest, where I can escape the ground.