There's a nightmare coiled beneath his pillow,
an asp of insanity,
hissing,
rearing,
ready to strike.
He has a family of strays
just like him,
wandering through boatyards
and scrap fields.
He hitched his post,
but he's lost time, lost lives.
Empathy.
Therapy.
Encephalitis.
Abigail.
He's in the minds of cannibals and killers
but out of his own.