wph

I got a very old text message today.

I remember when it was sent many yesterdays past.

It dropped down from the top of my screen in a little box, 

There's a little boy in the corner of my brain with his nose against the wall.

Four big letters spell out down the front of his cone-shaped hat.

You are lying on wet sand. You look down. 

The coarse, damp grains cling to your fingers. 

They look ghostly white in the black sunlight. 

The sky is completely devoid of light, 

1.

CHAPTER I

I’ve been drowning for many, many years. Down and down I sink, reaching forever and ever upward only to find fistful after fistful of water.