Corner of the Dead

Chapter 8

[ 52 ] C H A P T E R 8 I H AV E T H I S D R E A M . Coffee cups rattle on the table, shaken by the force of military jets flying back and forth across the same path of sky. Coffee runs down the sides of the cups. Dark puddles pool on the glass table. A light seeps out from under the bathroom door. I am in my father’s house. School is about to begin. I know I have to get dressed or my father will be angry with me. But the coffee keeps spilling and liquid is running along the floor. I want to finish dressing but first I have to wipe every drop. My father will hurt me if the coffee keeps doing this, if the kitchen is a mess and breakfast isn’t served. I am up to my ankles in coffee. I call for mother. There is no mother. When I look down I am standing in a river of blood. ...