Friday

Only a Dream

Sleep was a distant land she travelled without recollection of the dreams she knew lived there. But today, today was different. They were in a car that was about to crash and in the final few moments she saw him reach out his arm to shield her. She turned her head gripping the seatbelt waiting for impact. It never came. She opened the door and stepped out into a dark building and looked at the crumpled car and knew they had survived. A shaft of light poured in through the boarded windows. She awoke with her heart racing. . .

7 comments:

marit said...

I like how you always use pronouns instead of names. It's oddly personal and impersonal and the same time.

Val said...

You are an enigma Singer and it enhances your writing. This particular piece, shows that you are something of a conjurer or even a bit of an alchemist. Dreams are fertile ground for a writer, both as a muse and/or a plot. Brilliant work as always.

Singer said...

Hi Marit, thanks very much for your comment, it's good to see you. :)

Anonymous said...

What really struck me was how he reached out to shield her with his arm. It was an involuntary response but a completely loving one. It's these points of observation that are such gems. I do enjoy your writing so.

Singer said...

Thanks so much Selma, you know what a fan I am of your writing so that means a lot. Good to see you. :)

Val said...

Rumour has it that there is this blog originating in Canada that has a video with three of your Limericks on it. ;)

Singer said...

Thanks Val. X