{"id":56207,"date":"2019-06-23T03:48:42","date_gmt":"2019-06-23T07:48:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=56207"},"modified":"2019-06-23T03:48:42","modified_gmt":"2019-06-23T07:48:42","slug":"from-les-mis-nightmare","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/from-les-mis-nightmare\/","title":{"rendered":"From Les Mis – Nightmare"},"content":{"rendered":"

She, seated on the bed<\/span><\/p>\n

might it have been half-past five? she said <\/span><\/p>\n

separated from what was to be<\/span><\/p>\n

arteries, body ticking like a watch\u2019s plea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A double march going<\/span><\/p>\n

crime on one side, justice knowing<\/span><\/p>\n

tho\u2019 not afraid, shuddered she<\/span><\/p>\n

of what was surely soon to be.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Assailed by adventure unforeseen<\/span><\/p>\n

the day produced a hazy dream, <\/span><\/p>\n

to persuade it was a nightmare, so<\/span><\/p>\n

moon disengaged from foggy bow<\/span><\/p>\n

and light, mingled with fallen snow<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Now twas light thru chamber hinge<\/span><\/p>\n

a hole shining with reddish tinge<\/span><\/p>\n

bloody, but not by a candle<\/span><\/p>\n

not a sound, not a soul was moving, able.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

No speaking, not a single breath <\/span><\/p>\n

silence glacial, profound, and death<\/span><\/p>\n

were it not for light in there<\/span><\/p>\n

now next to a sepulchre, where <\/span><\/p>\n

she seemed to say a little prayer.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A lower door on hinges turned<\/span><\/p>\n

a heavy step on staircase, hastened <\/span><\/p>\n

the hovel\u2019s eerie latch had lifted<\/span><\/p>\n

something on the table shifted<\/span><\/p>\n

and at once the horrid dream, <\/span><\/p>\n

like flour sifted.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

-Sandra Johnson, 6\/22\/19<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

She, seated on the bed might it have been half-past five? she said separated from what was to be arteries, body ticking like a watch\u2019s plea.   A double march going crime on one side, justice knowing tho\u2019 not afraid, shuddered she of what was…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1299,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-56207","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56207","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1299"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=56207"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56207\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56222,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56207\/revisions\/56222"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=56207"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=56207"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=56207"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}