Personification Of A Dream: Part 1

By Author: K.S. Fellow
Total Articles: 6
Comment this article

The bus caught it's breath with a riveting bubbling humming as it made it's second stop along the cold gray streets, sleek with the cold sweep of winter's waning cold as spring struggled to break free. Days of thin air, dry hair, and drab memories, a time of changing, a most uncomfortable paradox of redundance no matter what excitement you may try to stir into ones day. Like any lazy body that day on the bus, I sat in a mediocre seat, dingy blue, and hid my lean hands in side my sweat shirt as I waited dazed. More bodies traipsed into the bus, the bumping and pardoning and searching for seats, was a prick to my nerves, since I truly wished we could get going, yet instead for a while that seemed ages, we were idol. Plinking in the coins, showing a bus pass...seats....awkward stares. Yes come on hurry, how hard is it to board a bus? Billowing exhaust formed around the bus, windows partly veiled by the steamy clouds that dipped and looped. For a moment I forgot my urgent heart, and I simply was enthralled by the pail creamy billows. A man appeared through the white draping of exhaust, his body still vialed but his face astonished ...
... me, so untarnished by worldly strains, nor buffeted by homely demure, nor was it ridged or rugged....unlike any face I could compare it to. Odd that a face could of drawn such a rise in me, yet, normally a person's face takes no notice from anyone unless it has no equal or double, or a like, or similar...this face was not to be even compared to any model, or movie star, singer, or guineas. It was simply...not of this time as it would appear, so smooth from the winds of a place she could never hope to go, eyes that had thoughts born in them she so earnestly wished to see, for they were thoughts of spooling beautiful great bounds and wonder, that, she was for certain. His brow innocent in his age yet a chin nimble that up held a majestic face that crooned it's wisdom it a infinite tail of gallantries so noble by his hand. OW! With a hard pain I opened my jaded eyes, mouth stiff from sleep and full of saliva. With the lifting of my head I looked out the passing by of the color drain homes, fire hydrants, pickets, and empty parked cars. Everything was so enveloped by winter's thick blanket that I felt a loss of joy, one less beat in my heart as I breathed deeply for the days of summer. In the meek voice I had, I spoke to reassure my tired voice was still stung to tune, What a restful dream. I wondered about how odd it was, how real it had seemed, how wonderful the man was I had seen in the shroud of exhaust. With out any procrastination I came to my stop and lifted my swollen from sleep body out of the seat that had held me so well for so long. ...

A day had past by before I began to pounder the dream that did not fade from my mind like the others. I found that since I had nothing to do during these slows times, my mind would wander alone, with or with out me, talking to the heart in great conversations of ifs ‘how comes', and ‘whys'. I would listen in here and there as I emptied my e-mail of junk, dark through out my home, my safety so silent, my face so still, my thoughts at a chill. But as soon as the thought, Would you of talked to this man had he been real? I had to stop my self and think, with a chortled almost sharp response my thoughts quickly burned to, No, no, I'm to passive aggressive...to...to shy. For anything...like that., but why? what would of been so hard to just say hi, a once in a life time opportunity...you have a trust in your heart that asks for him by name. By name?... A life time of wonders that you find, a destiny that will bind, don't be so blind! No! Foolish...a dream...it's really to sad that....well all to much is really to sad. Springing my self out of the office chair, my eyes were in relief of no longer having the blue light of the sedentary computer screen blaring at them. Stretching like a tight band, I waited as the computer behind beamed off in shut down, Bed... My feet were cold and bare, my mind heavy and tired like a wilted rose, I lumbered clumsy towards the dark hole in the shadows that was the door way to my sanctuary, my bedroom, that smell and warmth of blankets that I knew so well. As I laid a weary head down on a pile of lumpy pillows, I thought graizingly to my self, My life really is comfortable...not exciting......not lively really, but tolerable. And with that I found the ease enough to sleep deeply.

...Next part:2 jabberwoky dreams>>


About the Author Inspired when I forget.

:queen_of_world@centralpets.com