We try our best to dream, twisting our necks around towards the sound of clapping hands, sparks flying from their lagging souls. Sparking laughter and admiration, blurry faces in the crowd, they blur out the sound of the ending that blends into the opening. Act on your wishes and don’t let them be drowned out by the beat of another’s heart, screaming at your eyes for wandering much too far. There’s no denying who you are. They can’t deny you from afar.
We explore new territory even when they blot out our eyes, feel our way through because they can’t blot out our mind, blot out our drive. Touch the surface of the desk, the cup that holds our fantasies, the soft blankets of our safe nest, the one they can’t take away from us. We smile because who else could tell us what to feel now? I mean, we’re not tied down.
So then let the story begin and don’t fear when it ends
because the end is the beginning of the beginning to a new end.
He scrutinized her every movement. Her body’s beauty was beyond anything he ever dreamed of.
She thought he couldn’t see her. She was almost out now, flying daintily across the dark stage of his delusion towards the tiny window–unlocked today–which spilled a thin stream of light into the empty room. Her one slim chance was right in front of her.
She reached up, her pale arm glowing in the afternoon light. Her fingers felt the cool glass, felt her freedom, causing her sickly face to flush, creating a temporary illusion of health.
Spellbound, he couldn’t wait a second longer. He took her in his arms, ignoring her terror. He knew she would appreciate him in the end. He embraced her and showed her what he could do for her, and proceeded to do just that.
When it was over, he took her out of the room, back to her cell and wrapped up his reddened bedspread with a satisfied, ear to ear grin plastered onto his face.