"...Dreams"

 

I'm reading a book. One made of linen. It's pages it's leaves flutter. It speaks to me this linen book. Telling not only its stories, but how it came to be. How it was cut stitched. How the words were slowly so carefully threaded together. This book of cloth told me of its life. About the ways of all the books like her.

Then gone.

I enter another world in mid-sentence.

Friends. Three women of which I am one. In dreams you live whole lives in moments. I entered a world with lifelong friends about me. I yearned to tell my terrible secret. What for them was a lifetime was for me a brief vision as I lay asleep.

We sat and laughed at the foolish world. A world I was about to leave. Leave, and forget. This place, and my friends will vanish. Leaving not dust. I wake with the fragments of lives on the tip of my soul. Which as the moments pass melt away.