Sunday, January 15, 2012

In dreams

I was running out of a house, in a panic. And then I stopped abruptly, as my feet became stone. I reached out to the young man running next to me and he too was turning, yet he wa unafraid. The stone crept fast and silently and I watched myself as the expression of terror became permanently etched upon my face. I fought it. It was so vivid I could even see the stone crumble as I batted my lashes and some fell to the ground. The struggle was in vain however and my eyes were the last to turn. Then I woke up. Terror still etched on my face.
Posted by Heather at 9:51 AM

1 comment:

  1. Sand Creek Fine ArtFebruary 22, 2012 at 9:10 PM

    Still such a great writer...love it. I hate dreams like that.

    Hello, Dear Friend. Goodness...when did you get all grown up on me?! You look so sexy in your picture! Just thought I'd let you know I moved back to town. New job and all that. It's been a crazy few weeks. Don't know how often you keep up with this anymore but I started a different blog...again...more for my art thing...hmu when you get a chance.

    Pete

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