There i am, the needle in a haystack, alone on the cobbled streets of Haywards Heath. An insignificant pin prick on this earths crusted surface. I walk the streets searching for the gift of life as i feel my chest starting to close, pulsating, throbbing with every gasp. What kept me alive that long? the pictures of a young girl within my solemn unloved mind. I grabbed for the instrument that would raise me, like Christ from the grave. I tore through it using the untamed beast within me. Its juices of life pasted through to my veins as the adreniline kicked in. Then came the blow. With the power of a thousand fists crashing through my head, I dropped to the crisp cold pavement my head still floating in the vasteness of space. I felt as the stranger clawed my head back, i felt like an old Pez dispenser as his talons struck my eye. The warm blood trickled down my eye like a rain drop on a window. I awoke surrounded by the light.
Written by Dan Shambrook
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