super-squid-girl

A girl walks into the room. She walks quietly; so small amidst the crowd it's almost impossible to tell she's there, yet with such an air of importance that you'd trip over your feet to get out of her way. No one notices her, too busy with their own life to pay attention to someone else's, but she doesn't mind. She is the eye in the storm, peaceful and calm amongst the roar of the crowd. For a second, she stops, searching the crowd with a strange curiosity. At first you think she's seen you, but no; she was looking for something else. And for moment, the air around her blurs, bulges, swirling around her, distorting and twisting the world as

She is awake She touches the golden light gathering in warm pools on her sheets, listening to the leaves dance in the trees and the long grass rustle in the wind. She inhales a breeze wafting in through the open window, smelling the sweet smell of spring as it turns to summer. She is alive.

Where does one find the line between the story and the soul? Where do the words end and the life begin? How long is it, before the words flow together to create, not just a character, but a person? And how long is it before we notice? --- They were never really there, so to say.  Always looking out the window, always wishing to be somewhere else.  ‘Dreamers’ they would call them, creating wild fantasies, never dealing with the real world. They were looked down upon, ignored, shunned, for who should be able to live in this world that never wanted to in the first place? Yet these ‘Dreamers’ lived on, moving through life

Once a river, now a stream. Once an ocean, now a dream. Once a life, was not saved. Once a planet, now a grave.