Smoke drifts lazily upward. I dream.
There is a meadow. With every breath of wind, innumerable fronds of yellow grass wave to the sky. Scattered cottony puffs coalesce above to form an umbrella against the searing sunlight.
The ground is cool here, beneath a wondrous giant redwood. Far above, so far I believe my neck will break from straining to see such a distance, branches sway. There is such harmony here.
He’s there. He sits beside me and puts an arm across my shoulders. I’m happy then.
The smoke dissipates and I wake to find an hour has gone by.
6 Comments
Beautiful little vignette. Thanks.
This is beautiful, I am able to picture myself sitting there. Great 100 Words.
It is beautiful, but I sense such a feeling of longing, like a dream just beyond your reach. Thanks for sharing it.
Very moving
Ooh, that’s lovely. It’s that sense of longing that makes it. Or maybe that’s just where my head is right now.
That was great! A haunting vignette, almost a full story in 100 words! And you expressed the feeling so well. I could see the smoke, smell it, see and feel the meadow…