About Me

A writer trapped in the body of a different writer.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Old Keys

There is a recurring nightmare where I am a solider sitting at a campfire with a cast iron round ball mold and a pile of old keys. My job is to take the old keys and put them into the mold and hold them over the fire until they melt and form the rounded ball shape of a bullet. There are many keys and many bullets and the fire burns hot.

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