Chapter 92

I woke in a cold sweat. Every night it was the same thing. A tornado of images and sound all ending in the same cage with that same laugh. Somehow I knew the imagines where memories. Well most of them. Everything had a feeling like it had happened except one. The ball. That, like the shadow-clothed man and his laugh, was in every dream.

I sighed and crawl out of bed. It was still dark outside. Despite my best effects I couldn't wake up past five am. It was awful. Eventually I just gave up on it. I grabbed a set of clothes, a pair of black jeans with a dark, nearly black, blue shirt. I was quickly becoming grateful for the dark clothes as the first snow rapidly drew closer.