Vignettes and schizophrenic sketches of an ill-used imagination...
Friday, May 6, 2011
Peace was still sleeping, she let him lie. The nights were becoming more painful and mornings had lost their warmth in the sway. She thought about the days when she would hold him gently in her mind. Days when she could soak up his pain and rain happiness like a thunderstorm. But he was different these days. The sadness was fatal and the truth too intense, she let him lie.