Day Eight

The beast continues to elude me. I have tracked it down to a single room.

I can hear it’s ink-maddened screams, but still it hides.

The sunlight shines outside. The rumble of a car reminds me of the freedom almost within my grasp.

They fill me with hope. I will enjoy them soon.

Until it begins to rain. Which it will because this is Washington and this is winter.

The beast roars with the clickety-clack of keyboard keys.

I toss words at it, roping it ever closer into submission.

This hunt is nearly done.

It breaks free with a moment’s distraction by the internet.

The room is filled with my cursing and laughter as I watch a video about hedgehogs.

I hate this hunt, and the necessity for it, but those who hold my fate (for the moment) have decreed its necessity and so hunt away I will.

The beast has slipped away for the moment. Hidden behind a jumble of meaningless pixels and conversations with friends.

But I will find it. I will find it and write it into oblivion.

This I swear.


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