Rollercoaster.

Queuing up in the darkness, the rough ground wet, glistening with reflections of the grey moonlight as it peeked through the gently swaying branches above.  The ride only took one person at a time, a single pewter rollercoaster car appearing randomly waiting for its next occupant before disappearing back into the darkness of the horizontal mine shaft.  The world is black and white, the queue is made up of strangers all with the same horrified look engrained on their faces.  There seemed to be no choice about participating with this ride.  Each time the car re-emerged, it was missing its  lonely occupant, just a thick black slick of some dark wet substance secreted from beneath the wheels.  And  so the next passenger took his seat…

I’m not one to analyse dreams but what the hell was that all about???

It’s true, inspiration can be found almost anywhere.  It would be fairly straight forward to write a short horror story about this dream I had last night.  In fact, I think I might just do that.

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