By Rebekah Rademacher
see how long you can
last
and don’t forget
about the spikes.
as I’m lowered in the
spike-covered black orbs appear
the lower I go, the
darker it gets
never black, just a
sulfur-like yellow. Breath
hitches. I need air
now.
firm hands on my
shoulders push me deeper
a black yellow-tinted
tunnel.
my body
ever-rotating,
at my feet is exposed
ceiling
the yellow walls
beckon but
the deep yellow beyond my head is louder.
you shouldn’t still
be breathing,
you’ve been under for
hours.
and pools are blue,
you idiot,
not yellow
About the Author
Rebekah is a current
freshman majoring in English and minoring in creative writing. Her current
writing project is the fourth draft of a science fiction book that she hopes to
publish one day. She enjoys hiking, especially in National Parks. She is an
avid reader of science fiction and fantasy books. When she isn’t busy, she can
be found playing video games, binge-watching sci-fi shows, or crocheting.