Chest Cavity

I have an open chest wound that just won’t heal. I look inside and count my ribs. I peel back the bandage. There’s no blood; it’s a dry, gaping cavity. It’s a mini replica of the cave I am now walking through. Outside of the cave, there are dead white mares everywhere, their flesh bloated and rotting. They bled. Why don’t I bleed? And the spiders fall from the sky.

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