The Outreaching Hand
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"The Outreaching Hand"
by: Wes Robert Ward
In my dreams I see a blurry fog before me. Somewhat blind and incoherent as if drifting off the silent sea, sliding swiftly on to the land of endless sand of eternity. Entering my thoughts among my sleeping soundless mind, I slowly see an outline of a man\u2026 and his outreached hand.
Soon enough and for somewhat unknown reasons I knew not, I see not never the man except his outreaching hand.
The hand, the hand, what can I say about the hand? Inside this blurry fog, inside this blinding light. I saw no skin of white, but blood. For blood was on his outreached hand.
What is this chaos inside my cranium? Why can I not wake from this dream that has become a nightmare? What have I done to deserve such a hand as this, one with fresh hot blood dripping off this outreached hand among this cold chilly white out?
I long to shout, to scream insanity. My sanity is all I had left, alas it went with the wind, flying away like a feather floating forever.
The hand, the hand, the gorey bloody hand reached out towards me and I felt the tips of each strange finger graze across my throat.
The hand, the hand, the death gripped hand with growing rotting fingernails wrapped his outreached hand around my throat...
...and squeezed the life out of me.
I woke up screaming soaked in sweat and coated in cold dried up blood. With a red-stained axe in hand I realized what I had done last night and the man with the outreached hand was a mirror of myself into a wrath of my damnation.
Flip the mirror, for the mirror has two sides.
I woke up screaming soaked in sweat and only sweat. With nothing in hand I realized what would be, could be, and below the mirror on my dresser was a shiny axe waiting for me.
And the mirror will flip no more.
The End. \ud83d\udd28
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