The chill of the world's iron grip is numbing against her mind. Disappointment, anxiety, grief seap like a dangerous poison into her bones, searing her heart like a flame. Her only defense, her only chance at peace is to dream. And so she closes her eyes and lets the world and the darkness fade away...until she is there in the dream. She finds her way once again to the fields of comfort, of solace. The soft glow of sunlight slides along her fingertips, brushes against her once cold skin. Her eyes still closed, she senses movement and energy. She feels the tall grass as it ripples from a gentle breeze.
Only then does she know...she never wants to leave
the dream.
3 comments:
Beautiful, Jayme...both the photos and the prose...I love it!!! (Glad you're feeling better!).
I love the images and the words. Beautiful words really enhance the images; however, I was immediately drawn to the first photo. I focused on the 'movement' in the picture, the breeze that I could feel. I felt melancholic the more I looked at that image. To get emotion from an image is a high compliment in my opinion. Good Job!
Well done, HB. I could touch that second one ... it was very soft, like a feather.
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