Flash Fiction: Dreaming, or Fighting

I dream about you a lot.  Sometimes, we’re in a big house, halls never ending, ceilings low and cramped, floor boards creaking in protest beneath our weight as we search for an exit. Sometimes, we’re lost in a forest, darkness reaching deep down into our skin and chilling everything it touches.

I dream about you when I least expect it. When I’ve had a good day and falling asleep is easy. I dream about you when the air is perfect and the night is clear. And we are lost and unable to find our way free of the tangles of some trap.  Sometimes, I lose you and that’s when things get really bad.

I can hear your breath in my ear. See your face even when my eyes are open and you have not sat in your favorite chair for many years. Feel your skin, hairs prickled beneath my fingertips. Dreaming about you is hard, because you are there for so many moments afterward, even though your feet have not touched these floors, and your laughter has not filled the close air of this apartment, and you have not made dinner in our tiny kitchen for a long time now.

Sometimes, I turn on the TV and I fall asleep to a man’s voice that is similar to yours. Sometimes, the dreams don’t come and then it isn’t so hard.

2 Responses to “Flash Fiction: Dreaming, or Fighting”
  1. FrancesLee says:

    I know this feeling all too well

  2. kruitvat says:

    I was falling on your site while working on the internet and I was shoched by your story. I do like also your literally talent.
    How are you now ?


    Jan Boeykens
    (see Facebook)

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