Data Mutations

Preface

I dreamt I was exploring the dilapidated farm in the middle of the night to find my grandfather, who went out on his usual night strolls during the week. Lost in the corn rows, trying to find a clearing or an avenue of exit, I pushed past tall stalks of corn and grass while the blades cut my skin profusely.

As hours passed, through fatigue, I narrowed my eyes wearily and made out the outline of a slate-gray silo through the thick crops and foliage. Feeling hopeful, I sprinted towards the structure, tripping over roots and feeling the cuts on my skin grow larger and larger, until in my haste I fell into a deep sinkhole filled with murky, swaddling water. Desperately, I clawed at the damp walls feeling my nails cake with dirt, and my fingers blister. At least three of my nails were torn off, profusely bleeding a dark black sludge, sticky like honey onto the brackish waters.

"Help!" I screamed at the sky. "Help, oh God, help me." Tears started trickling down my cheeks as my breath started to patch and waver in the cold air. "I don't want to die! I don't want to die alone! Please, someone help! Grandpa! Daddy! Mommy!"

I sobbed. My lungs started to get tired from exertion.