a grassy path beside a road, illuminated by the fleeting glow of a flashlight
the sky, a whorl of deep, royal purple, flecked with stars, so clear, the image you would get if you googled 'milky way'
small animals responding to the light of a lamp, 7 dollars from the local store
cicadas chirping, deafening
a brick wall, mottled, like a piece of raisin toast
a water tank, 8 waterbottles in my arms, filling them one by one
the plastic taste of mosquito repellent in the back of my throat, delirious
COVID tests strewn out in front of me, desperately praying for the second line
a clock hanging over my bed, my only hope, the only thing anchoring me to this world

it says:
4:23 am

3 more hours

i want to go home
but where?