Another Life #10

In the sleepy hours of mid-morning, the window is misted and covered with drops of rain. The sky, a dull gray, waits beyond, looking quite tired itself. Tree branches sway slightly, bending to the mildly present wind. The view does not encourage the will to venture outside. Still, one cannot stay indoors indefinitely. Everyone’s individual world consists of all that is within the boundaries they make.  For some, that can be one single building, or one single room. Most of us, however, need a wider variety to our world. Although the absence of the sun in the day steals away the desire to exit a warm bed, what is a little rain in the face of connection to the world at large?

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Write About Anything: “Insomnia”

In the night I lie in bed. Stars, invisible through ceilings and city air, burn through me, through the body of the earth and out the other side, until their light and life-force collides with the light from other stars. I am awake, but dreaming. My mind leads me to places fantastic and mundane, images of what will happen tomorrow and things that will never happen, specters I will never meet. Fairies chuckling and monsters shimmering. I suspect that if I saw such things in real life, I would be unable to look directly at them for fear of them disappearing, or of them being too real. And when at last I drift off, the dreams I have in sleep are fuzzy and unformed. I wake feeling unrefreshed, as if my lucid half-nightmares beckon to me, enticing me back into their world.