Semi-Daily Scribbles

I could find no other way to dig the hole, so I dropped to my knees upon the sweet decay of the loamy field. With head bent and shoulders ready to work, I scooped warm soil by the armful. Spoils were tossed to either side and I was soon penned in by mounds of steaming earth. I thought for a moment I need not exert my strength. This was only a dream. But the realm in which I dug made no difference. Buried beneath me was the cure to my comfort and complacency. I long ago traded my agency for the hallucination of wealth. The burn mark that appeared on the left side of my chest was the sign of second chances. Whether the treasure turned out to be a balm, a salve, or a poison draft, I had to drain the rank blood to be counted among the living.