I woke up from hazy dreams.
They were full and rich, and I was excited about my place there.
But in the morning all the specifics were gone. I had the feeling for all the wonderful things in my life and my connections and purpose and so much to look forward to-
But what? This is what it’s like to have amnesia I guess. But at least I still have the feeling,
And though I feel lost, I feel that all is not lost. And that my feet are in the right place, though I don’t know where that is.
About the Creator
Alice Eckles
artist, writer, being
I’m interested in life, nature, art, books, joy, beauty, doing stuff and refreshment.
Art portfolio at www.AliceEcklesStudio.com
Daily paintings available at www.AliceEcklesArt.com
@aliceecklesstudio on Instagram
Keep reading
More stories from Alice Eckles and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Onion at the Heart
Take a picture of. It doesn't matter: it's the spirit of the action that counts. He takes the picture. At first, he feels guilty of trespassing; he's about to go. But farms here are big and the owners never see. Toni hill, cranky tree; it's hard to find nature's sitcoms. Takes time, plotting, meditation. Bill appreciated meditation: that is what he sought when he fled in panic. And he left with his eyes wits chattering in the film box of his camera.
By Alice Eckles4 years ago in Fiction
The Devil Gets What He Wanted
“Hello Old Scratch. My name is Glabon. I assume you know why I am here?” “Of course, Glabon, as you no doubt know, I know many things, most in fact.” “Well, despite that I am required by my superiors to inform you of my intentions in any case.” “And, you always do what you are told don’t you my friend Glabon?” “Of course, and I am not your friend, nor are you anyone’s friend, but that matters not for purposes of this discussion.” “No need to hurl insults, it was only a figure of speech. I would suggest you lighten up, but I assume your superiors would find that objectionable, and my guess is you are not capable of it. Do you ever even smile Glabon? Or laugh? No, I presume not.” “Mr. Scratch I am not here for banter or games, I am here for your interview. As you know a select group has been commissioned to write your biography for the historical record.”
By Everyday Junglist7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.