Black Water

10810363164_81a3dfb7e6_kThis post comes from the founding editor‘s dream journal.

It seemed like we’d been in that hanger forever. The corridor we were walking through was endless, but we kept moving. On each other’s flank, we feared we might suffocate in our spacesuits. We thought we might run out of oxygen and began to perspire. Drops of sweat gathered on our brows.

In a bright flash, we were shot backward and had to pick ourselves back up at the beginning of the corridor. With no other option, we began to trudge along again. There was dirt on the steel floor at our feet. The dirt had been carved by the rush of water. Rags and brush were piled up against the walls. It was as if a flood had streamed over the exact space where we now walked.

We were watchful beneath the blinking flicker of fluorescent bulbs, but had the overwhelming sense that we weren’t alone. There was a hum in the air, then the ceiling was gone. Only the skeleton of the corridor remained. We saw a wall of water. Black water.

We stared up and out of the corridor until we were able to discern a black and white image the size of a tsunami. A crashing wave slide across the giant wall of the hanger. The photograph moved slowly and peacefully, but we somehow knew we would all drown.


Image: Matt_A

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