| Demon struggling to push down my eyelids and weld my lashes to my cheeks, and I fight him so hard I forget the desk in front of me isn't a hillside and the girl with the red shirt isn't a rose, but the demon tempts with promises of bliss and I'm fighting and straining and suddenly hallucinations of the answer float in front of my straining eyes and I lose concentration and the demon seizes my lashes and pulls them down and I'm teetering, off balance, and as the pen slips out of my slack fingers I fall into the abyss... |