The thrill of escaping, the thrill of ditching.
My heart's beating, have I been seen?
The loud voice calling out to stop.
I run, faster and faster.
Up the stairs, behind a column.
Heart beating, unable to hear the slow pounding steps.
Only the fast rhythmic beating.
The light shines on me.
Everything so real, lucid.
But no escaping.
I've been caught.
Jacket and self pulled into a decrepit rusty cell.
Oh woe is me.