Arm squeezed through the single crack in the white wall. The desire of a greater reach presses the purple fleshy body upon the solid surface. Blood unable to flow beyond the shoulder blade. White ligaments shake at a distance, waiting to snap. What if I took a run up? Launch myself at it at an inhuman speed, give myself that extra centimetre of reach, then maybe I would be able to touch something real.
But it is late and I am retiring to bed. I shall cosy up alongside the festering corpses once again and dream of the day of my success.