"Say pal, you don't look so good. You'd better
find something to eat before night
comes!"
—Maxwell, Don't Starve
Stranded, an unknown world,
wilderness stretches around me.
Dog sized spiders,
pig men, swamp tentacles,
none bring the familiar clutch of death
quite like Charlie.
Her shadowy arms stretch,
talons for hands, snuffing flame.
I keep the fire lit,
throw in the cow shit.
She cannot invade warm,
orange, light.
Into the crockpot,
berries, carrots, frog legs, too.
Bastardized meatballs and frog fettuccine
fills my stomach,
but not the sanity
her presence
erodes.
I pick posies,
restore peace of mind,
piece by perforated peace.
Eventually, wisps of smoke climb to stars,
the orange glow fizzles.
Black illuminating darkness descends,
thoughts fade further.
Beautiful Darkness opens her arms.
Pricking of teeth,
clutching of claws.
I can't stop her embrace.
I'm not sure I want to.
She severs flesh,
delivers black to grey.
Sorry, pal.
Maybe as a ghost,
life's easier.
September Hinkle is a secondary language arts teacher in Missouri. She is completing her English Master's Thesis at Southeast Missouri State University over The Walking Dead, and pursues research on linking the composition classroom with popular culture and gamification.
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