I hurry back to the house I grew up in. Fish blood on my hands. The lamp on the back porch is still burning. The door is open. The hunting beagles are fed and already asleep. And there’s some cold supper on the table waiting for me. I eat it cold too. I ask my mother what is going to happen to me when she dies. She says Luke I am never going to die. — LUCAS DEAN CLARK
Lucas Dean Clark is from a rural farming community in Northeast Ohio. He writes about his dreams often and has a reoccurring nightmare where he is chased by black-haired dogs. He also walks in the woods like a ghost.