Inner Flaws by Deborah A. Upton

A young man told me of his going to the core of the ship, a place where not many were allowed to go, describing the darkened room where he slept. “The room had just enough eerie green light to guide you to your bed. My berth was the one on the top. To reach it I had to pull myself up over the front edge, ducking and pulling my legs in then rolling over onto my back, with just a few inches between my face and the ceiling. There was a small curtain I could pull, enclosing myself in what felt like a tomb. I never heard any sounds coming from behind the other pulled curtains. I never really slept, though. What I thought were dreams were really my own fears oozing from the confines of my manipulated mind. The whole time I lived in this manner I adjusted to the lack of sleep. Even now when I go to bed, I close my eyes, but I don’t sleep. I dream awake and now the dreams have become dangerous.” He held out his hand and begged me to take the gun from his hand. But there wasn’t a gun. It was then when I started not trusting him.

.

Return to This Week’s Flash