Traffic

[dakyon]

There are many on the dark road that one walks alone. The tired shuffle of feet in an endless loop of one foot after the other . . . always moving, but going nowhere. The vacuous gaze of eyes to heavy to rise up from the foggy ground. The subtle moan from an enduring pain that requires too much effort to convert into a scream. The constant craving for more . . . brains.

I have wondered what lies off the beaten path beyond that veil of night that cannot be penetrated.