Part three: We see ghosts when we want to.

(previously on Part Two)

In peacetime, when Karma has no one to claim, the hunger turns inwards.

Restlessness whispers in their ears. The ghosts of paranoia re-emerge. Apparitions of imaginary betrayal dance on tiptoes, barely touching the floor. The flames of suspicion rekindle. Comradeship, forgotten. When you are different, and when you are alone, you submit and resign yourself to Fate, and try to find forgiveness and faith in the goodness of your kind. Faith is a gamble, and unfortunately, not many win when playing against the House.

Hope can be as beautiful as a single snowflake floating down the frosty sky, but melts in your hand when you reach out to possess it.

NEXT (Part Four: We are only as blind as the others want us to be)
BACK to “The Hungry and the Wretched” series main page


About roaccchz

I daydream with my eyes wide open.


  1. I never knew there could be such poetry in godzilla-like monsters. That last line is magnifcently beautiful sentiment.

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