Writings

In His Dream

She came to his dreams. She was young. Her hair, as black as coal, and it's longer. It runs down up to her waist, her waves dancing with the wind that he can not feel. 

[My love,] he said. [You look young.]

[So are you.] She replied with a smile.

Suddenly, a full size mirror was right next to him. His appearance reflected. She's right. He looks young too. His great physique is back, and the wrinkled skin is gone. He looked down at his hands and frowned. 

His hands were the same. Wrinkled and brown. 

He looked again at his reflection in the mirror. There, his younger self.

[I don't understand.] He said, turning to her.

She was standing next to him. Reaching for his hands. She holds him, and gives his hands a gentle squeeze.

[I'll be going first.] Said she. Her eyes were as gentle as always. Their almond color orbs sparkling with beauty and hypnotizing.

[Where?]

[Eternity. Just like we promised.]

His confusion doubled. She smiled at him. [You silly, did you forget already?]

He looked down on their holding hands and saw her hands have wrinkles. Surprised, he looked at her again. Her face, it was old. Just like how it is in the present.

[I . . .] He faltered.

[I'll get going now. I'll wait for you in eternity, my love.] Said she. 

She let go of him and turned around. She started walking away. Not looking back.

[Wait!] He called her. He tried to go after her only to discover that his feet were planted on the ground. 

He struggled, moving his knees up and down, but the ground was so sticky he couldn't move forward at all nor get out. He shouted for her again. 

He stopped struggling when she turned around and waved. And then she left. Vanished in the wind.

He opened his eyes. In his arms, his wife was breathing no more.

-END-

- - -

AymAMidelChayld