(no subject)
I am lying in a bed of an apocalyptic future. the world torn to pieces, every where desert, the sand in every part of you. It reminded me of tank girl. The scene dimly lit. sunrise, maybe six in the morning. old mattress on the floor, found somewhere unknown. Random dusty furniture, drawers hanging open; overloaded with clothes. The bed was up in the loft of some barn with broken down farm machinery rusted slowly. The smell of hay still lingered, but most of it was decades old. Canteen on the floor next to the bed, machete on the dresser and hand gun tucked under some socks in the first drawer. Rifle hanging by it's strap on the bed post.
And something inside of me told me that this was a safe place.
And something inside of me told me that this was a safe place.