Last night my dream was so green. A stone garden terrace at dusk. Him up there, on the phone, while I strolled along the grass below, enjoying the cool evening air.
A building appeared, smooth, austere… and looking inside, I saw a friend there, who waved me in, but I shook my head, no. I wasn’t ready yet, and here’s the strange thing… I turned and stood on a field, beside a large empty board, I felt I had to move.
I pushed it and saw where the shadow fell, but I wasn’t satisfied, and I continued to push and measure the length of the shadows as my arms grew tired and the sun left the sky.
creative writing, crime of passion, deceit, dream, haiku, human beings, knife, liar, lies, love, novella, poem, poetry, prose poetry, relationships, senryu, short fiction, short story, solitude, thriller, writing, writing project
When we’re on our own, we touch ourselves… dream of things… Silly human beings.