He awoke.

The memories all came flooding back. The screams. Blood. Lots of blood.

She awoke.

Her dreams lingered… two black butterflies flitting about on a warm day, dancing just for her.

I awoke, resigned to their presence. Ours was an uneasy alliance, here in this darkness behind my eyes.

Dave James Ashton favours short fiction as he has a bad memory and poor attention span.