June 7th
It had been a month since I saw her last. I thought I was delirious with the heat of the fresh summer sun when she walked ahead of me. My imagination playing a cruel joke. But there she was, refreshing as ever.
Murph
@murphyslaw
Stories based on my dreams&nightmaresđź’¤
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Chapter 2: CoMixed from @murphyslaw: https://commaful.com/play/murphyslaw/like-a-spring-wind-she-moves-through-the-crowd-ref/
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I laid there, eyes closed
One woman’s getaway from reality turns into a fight for survival.
Like a spring wind, she moves through the crowd, refreshing, subtle, distinct. Her dark hair pinned loosely from her face, a a tide of gentle curls offsetting her white cotton blouse.
If the 1950s weren’t racist, homophobic, & every other Xenophobic -ism in the world.
(I’ll add more if there’s interest)
how quiet is the rage.
The darkness calls out to her every night, pulling her deeper. It was all just a nightmare until the voice in the darkness asked for help.