Earlier in the night I heard a man cry out in pain. I think he’d been shot. That’s what it sounded like. I mean his cries. I tried to remember if I’d heard the shot, and it seemed I had.
The man was crying out between breaths. It wasn’t a continuous sound. He would breathe and cry out, breathe and cry out.
This happened once before. There were many shots that time, and they were loud. I think there were cries as well, in the beginning. Then the cries stopped, presumably because the person being shot was dead.
Later in the night I believed I was dying. I don’t know if I dreamt this or if I was awake. If I dreamt it, I woke instantly. My thought was: Oh my god this is last moment of my life. I didn’t understand what I was dying of. I think there’d been a flash. I was dying of whatever made the flash.
A man signs a shovel and so he digs.
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