Pickaxe

I'm running and I'm running and I'm running through the tunnels. And the rocks are coming at me and I'm jumping over each.

When a pickaxe drops to the ground, I grab it and I use it to bust up the rocks that come and come and come. And when a key appears, I can grab it and fall through a door.

And for a few brief moments, my life is quiet, and in the falling my life is my own. The thrumming of colors, spinning in my head as my hair blows back and my mind goes numb, and spin blue/white pinprick tingling stop.

And I'm running and I'm running and I'm running through the tunnels. And the rocks are coming at me and I'm jumping over each.

And I'm too busy to blog.