The days feel like many. A lifetime of lifetimes have shuttled past us in the time since the Dark Dawn. But it has only been a few days. Maybe that is how the energy of the universe works around us when so many human beings cease to be in menial hours; those lives heading out into the deep void muddle our perception of time, whispering at memories we barely register in our conscious wakings.
Within the few moments of shuttered eyelids that exhaustion forces upon me, I dream of him. And of her. His aura illuminates my mind's desperate illustration of his peril as she stands erect on the opposite side of some room. Dark and vacant, both the room and her eyes, the gray ebbing and flowing against my child's permanence in this world - a world The Dawn yearns to engulf. His lips quivering, wordless movement, sense removed but meaning inherent: "Hurry, Daddy. Hurry."
Each night, this haunting racks me. Each night, my eyelids strain to stay closed to keep his image close as my mind wafts back into the stark reality of a desolate landscape.
I look around me. The bodies of my company, those that naively believe me to be something more than I am. I allow myself only a moment to feel sorry for them.
Whatever their fate, it is not mine. No matter that their path currently resides layered with mine, I trek alone.
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