The sunlight filtering through the windows, the shadows skipping across the floor, the curtains swaying softly with the breeze. The green of her dress, the brown of my shoes, the glass of the chandelier. The crackling of a record, the walk across the room, the grabbing my hand.
"It's easy! I'll show you how."
Easy for her, maybe. Everything is. Beauty, smiles, laughter. Hell, she could breathe water like it were air if she were to put her mind to it. But instead, she put her mind to me, and to forcing me to learn this goddamn dance.
"Just - just watch me do it, and then repeat. Okay?"
"Yeah. Sure thing."
I'd say anything to get her to dance across that ballroom floor forever, if I could. The grace of a morning breeze, the elegance of a crystal-clear river, the beauty of Aphrodite. Her face is so, I don't know, perfect? It's hard to put words to it. You can't describe the indescribable nature of things, and she is no different. That indescribable attribute of beauty - that je-ne-sais-quoi about her. I don't know. I'll never know just quite how to put it into words, even now that the dream is years old. I'll never be able to describe her smile.
I wish I could paint so I could bring her to life.
YOU ARE READING
sleep.
Short Storydreams, hallucinations, whatever you want to call them. all here. all now. all me.
