Jiggity

Prologue: An Ill wind. The little boy giggled. He sat amongst the tall, swaying grass and playfully snatched at the lights. Small, glowing balls of colour that floated about, somehow ...

Some people like to dream. I don’t. I sleep, safe in the comfort of oblivion. No traumatic visions to plague me, no lustful yearnings or fantasies to frustrate me, just ...