There’s an uneasiness that comes with being human and being conscious. Teetering on the edge of hopelessly infinite and just hopeless.
Every moment is a morsel unfolding onto another. Bread crumb after bread crumb left by Hansel and Gretel – only to be eaten by the monsters of time, mutely jeering on the sidelines. Out of sight. Out of mind. Until you can’t find your way home. Knocked out. Awakened by the acid that eats away at your flesh, the walls of your surroundings slimy like a human balloon, contracting in and out. Bits of yourself floating on the wet graveyard of past wanderers.
Caught in the stomach of a witch.
Your options: If you’re still alive, you can chew your way out.