01 mayo 2018

The time of the trip

It was time. He took the blackened spoon and prepared the ticket for his trip. He loaded the syringe with the bubbling fluid reviving in the spoon. He looked for the ankle vein, the one hidden in his sock and there he pricked himself.
The journey began with a drowsiness that elevated him to unknown places and kept him there, not knowing very well where he was, but he felt happy.
He escaped from a reality he did not like, which prevented him from throwing himself over a bridge and burying his cowardice once again.

Image source: Pixabay

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