Broken days were the tracks in the dust of his past. There had been women, there had been land, there had been comrades, smoke, liquor, times of labor, and times of celebration. The decades he had almost forgotten swam through his head as he caught himself in between sleep.
He sprang to his side, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there as the nightmare visions of his past began to drift from his reality. He recognized the room as his, the bed and blankets, the semi-concerned cat dozing at his feet. He noted the shade of dawn the sun cast, and understood that it was around nine thirty in the morning.
He didn't know why he understood these things like the time of day naturally, instincually, or the locations of all his weapons and escape routes in this world, or the other one, but he knew. He reached down, and scratched behind his little friend's ears.
"Today's a new day, big guy," he said, sighing, as he made his way towards his small camping stove, every one of his senses pleading for a cup of the coffee he had in his pack. He raised the fire, and set his bit of water to boil, mixing the powder from his rations into the aluminum cup.
He sipped thankfully as his little friend curled around his legs. The broken, shattered world around him glistened with promise, despite the lies of his dreams.
"Today's a new day," he smiled.
© DDLX