Seven by D.I. Jolly Bethany sat alone at her desk, sipping tea and impatiently waiting for her dream to fade. It was her least favourite of the ones that reoccurred because it was both the most realistic and the one that took the longest to leave after she woke up. It had started, as far…
“The doctors tried to tell me once that it wasn’t my fault, that I was simply born this way. Personally, I don’t like that way of thinking. Makes me feel undervalued. A lot of work goes into my little art projects you know.”
It was 7 am when his alarm started screaming, telling him he’d lain awake all night.
At age five he felt like he’d lived a thousand years, and pretending to be a child for 16 hours out of every few years was difficult.
Thursday night wasn’t the ideal drinking day, but my week and been especially shit so I had no love left for my job or what the bosses thought of my red eyes and dirty shirts, or if they did notice that I had been in same clothes for the last three days.
“Find somewhere soft and warm, take a couple and enjoy the ride.”
The Magic Carpet, it’s the only way to fly!
He liked listening to those kinds of stories, he knew they’d never resolve but enjoyed seeing how his son’s mind worked
In fact, the only remarkable thing about the start of that evening was that nothing remarkable was happening.