jesusmichaelj
It was dense. Dense. Dense. Dense. The metal above my throat kept inching closer and closer. I could see neon everywhere. The place was dense. The word began running through my head for unknown reasons. It became nothing. The metal ripped through my skin and the neon world faded.
Moving around and round, I went. The playground was like it was, when I was young.
There was only one word on the sheet of paper: evidence. It was of concern to me, my partner, and the body that was lying under the paper.