I stare at the ceiling again. I outline the same familiar patterns, the odd shapes and pictures the ridges and lines make. An ocean wave, a panda, maybe a horse. I take deep breaths as I stare at the ceiling, I pick out a picture of a whale, a castle, maybe a mountain range. Many mountain ranges. I lean further back into my bed and relax. I reach over and turn off my lamp, I still look at my ceiling trying to piece together parts of it in my dark bedroom. Soon my eyelids grow heavy and I drift off to sleep. This is my routine every night, to prevent the nightmares from getting worse. As if they weren't already worse.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Allies
ActionTwo broken souls. Two killers. One American the other Russian, both with memories of unspeakable pasts. But both are still human.
