Short 11: Unbidden, she comes. Tale of a dream. Padding through the house, only the jingle of her anklet coins tinkling to betray her movement. Her bare feet and long skirt make her seem to float as she passes the doorway, oblivious of me. She glides from room to room, busy with her day. She does not know that she consumes my thoughts, fuels the fires within. I dare not speak, for fear the dreamlike state will end. The glimmering happiness will dissipate. I count myself lucky to simply observe, to enjoy the illusion. Then, unbidden, she comes. Two glasses of wine and fruit on a tray. Her smile illuminates the room, brings a warmth brimming to my soul. The candles flicker and glut a bit with her passing, their scent complimenting hers. She places the tray on the floor with a fluid movement born of grace, and settle into a picture perfect pose in front of a low fire in the hearth. She flashes me a glance and a gypsy smile, and opens those sweet lips to invite me to the picnic in the den. Before the first sound passes her lips, I awake.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Jun 2013 05:58:10 +0000
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