The Fray

Life was getting tighter around everyone’s necks, it’s waters rising up over their knees, the walls closing in so that there was only ever a narrow corridor to slide through. People pushed, tripped, tossed, walked over each other, ignored the gurgled pleas coming from below, from the wriggling ground.

Some tried to use the other’s backs as steps and ladders, climbing to get above the fray.

Desperate fingers clawed and gripped. They tugged, yanked and pulled, making sure no one could rise, could climb, could reach a point where it wasn’t a struggle, a battle, just to survive.

To breathe.

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