Riley0945

I was asleep until it hit, out cold until the drop. It was cold and wet and woke me instantly. At first thought I could have sworn it was blood. The blood of the monster that I fought in my dreams. But it wasn't. It was just water. Water falling through one of the many tiny holes in my old shack roof. It was raining, I hate the rain. As I pulled myself out of my now sopping wet hay pile I sighed. The inside of the hut was glowing with the fading moonlight, illuminating the small area. It was my home, though not many would see it as suitable for living. The small one room building was no taller than a tool shed. With hay pile for a bed and a s

The sun crept through the cracks of the old wooden shack; illuminating the little table in the corner and shinning off the group of knives that make their nightly home on the old barrel topped object. The light that reflected from my only possession landed softly on my face and woke me from the dream that constantly haunted me.  Opening my eyes, squinting in the light and scanning the small area I called my home I sighed. It had to be almost mid-day now, if not shortly after. No bird could be heard from the nearby trees nor the sound of the early train on the tracks behind the old shed. The Hay pile that is my bed has grown uncomfortable and