It was damp.
No? No. It was moist.
The seaweed screens gurgled and bubbled, bleary and blurry. Blue walls, blue as the sea, they seemed to boil. But green swirls danced just in my periphery.

Red, red streaks boated through the solid swamp and there was a lighthouse; the lightbulb hangs in the center, BZzzzzzzing like a bee. A bee, a bee in the sea? No, it’s not a bee; it flickers in and out of the sea, of the dream.

And me…
And me…

Just below- melting, you see. They locked the basement and swallowed the key. The smell, the smell was hell how it cleaved into my nostrils with every breeze.

Please, oh please, oh please, and suddenly click.
clack.
click. clack. faster
click. clack. click. clack. It went on.
My hands- a printing press, each finger slamming into the keys. click. clack. It was mechanical, the clicking, the clacking, the bzzzzing of the fleeting bulb above me. click. clack. The bare edges of my lips peeled back like a peach- white teeth, streaking beneath. click. clack. And this body- a puppet of meat, clothed in greed and fleece, sat straight as a figurine. click. clack.

Before my mind had entered that dream and pranced into a trance, trapped in a creek. I can well retrieve, there was a loud, heavy, beat, a numb little thud that sent me amok and so very weak. click. clack. The keys possessed me, as to think is routine for only the deceased. The spearheaded smile pierced into each cheek.

How badly I wished for the keys to flee. Run little ones, from the press and release. Please, oh heed the fate I foresee. “Why even try?” My fingers had deemed; they knew every click was of destiny. Creeping above, the artificial bee, bzzzing and bzzzing like a lighthouse in the sea. High in the sky, sailors careened. They weaved through the air, blissfully. Flies, real flies in a swarm, sweeping and streaking the air like a storm. Waves turning, simply to meet, crashing back in the deep sea beneath. And somehow, someway, it was peace.

There were no more keys, no more audio screamed, too busy seeing the swarm teem. My hands did proceed, but I stayed naive. A child at the beach, I finally felt free. Till the tide rolled up my feet, and I looked down, to feel my chest sink. To feel my jaw and teeth freeze as if full of glee. To feel my throat seal on the image before me. The red streak had reached out in a plea. A body, silent as one could seem, laid below, every breath I could speak.

I looked up.
BZzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Really, somebody should come and sweep.
Really, somebody should come to clean.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click…