Eyes are the Windows to the Soul
I spun around. And there she was. The woman I was to become.
Except I was dreaming. Dreaming the novel I was writing.
Writing about my future. In second person future tense. But it was unraveling quicker than I could piece the patchwork together. Like a fence falling apart faster than you could paint it.
Oddball to watch myself yarn like that. Dreaming. I could see the words before my eyes. Each syllable like a heartbeat.
Noiselessly thrumming melody of life. Enhanced. Breathing. And when I awoke, the devil was there, remarking I Love what you've done to the place.
D.M. over 8 years ago
"each syllable like a heartbeat" - great phrase!
Olga Klezovitch over 8 years ago
Nice drabble.