Friendship
The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Eight
On this strange morning, I wake from a dream that feels terribly real. I hold my arms, my shoulders, my legs. No scars, no trace of suffering. I am on the couch in the little apartment, hidden from the world. No towers, no pirate ships. How long was I lost in the dream? How much of it was entirely fabricated?
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Seven
On this ordinary morning, I’m heading to the neighboring cafe for a hot cup of energy. I sing along to my new favorite song that reminds me of chilly sunrises and autumn leaves. On the sidewalk, a spry, elderly man kneels beside his rucksack, rustling through it as if digging for some lost trinket. He doesn’t eye me, too absorbed in his search.
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Six
On this ordinary morning, I am encircling the maze of buildings which are trying so desperately to be homes. Yet, they aren’t much different than metal cages, cold, dank, hidden from sunshine. There is a park, a single stretch of grass and flowering bushes that might or might not be aware that they harbor vitality for the entire block.
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
