day eighty-one

37 4 4
                                    

Date: 25-06-2016

Dreams of More

The puddles of clear water on the murky grass reflect the shining brightness in her eyes as she walks down the road, quiet in her glee. Her green orbs sparkle with the life of a thousand flowers, cheeks flushed like a bed of crimson-kissed roses. 

And as she walks, she sees that she is not alone. For her shadow is not her only friend as she'd always believed but there, waiting, near the end of the light stood he. 

She stopped. 

She stared. 

For it could not be him, could it? The same man from her dreams whose hand, outstretched, would grab her and whisk her away to a world of fun and frolic, of adventure and grandeur? This place, in all its dull dreariness ate away at her energy and all she had to offer to the Divine. Was he here to deliver her what she was most due?

Steps turned to speed; the puddles broke, her lustrous rainbow reflecting through the drops that sliced the air. She ran and her breath did not give out, not until her hand touched his, not until she had her dreams in the touch of her-

Air. 

The little girl tumbled to the ground. The smell of metal as fresh blood oozed out her cut knee, the sound of a shuddering sob from her racking body - it echoed off the empty road. She stared at the reflection of the image through the still waters - nothing, no one. 

Imagination had its limits. 

Reality had set its standards. 

Alone again, she picked herself up and dried her tears. For her life was worth more, much more, than what this world offered her. 

And as the skies parted above raining unfiltered sun down on the Earth, the girl walked on with her head hung low, too low to see just how beautiful the ordinary could be. 

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