I had this story published on a writing site called Quaterreads. As seen as they are now defunct, I thought I’d share it here. I have far too many short stories go to waste and hoped you might like to read it so that another didn’t.
In the Arms of A Dream
I’m adrift in the middle of an endless sea, lost in an ocean of I know not where, nor care, floundering in currents of non-liquidity. Time has paused between being and not: I wait.
My eyes open to stars, trillions of stars. They appear to me as snowflakes in a maelstrom sky flicking across tired eyes before I can focus on any individual one. These little pieces of something incredible whirl and spire about me, or I they, I aren’t sure which? The myriad flakes do not fall for that would indicate an up and a down…
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