Dreamshards

A dream, like a film of ice on the pond, seems strong, real, but is fragile, unable to support the weight of daylight. It shatters as I wake and only shards remain, insubstantial hints of a story I told myself as I slept. I reach for a shard, hoping to read from it some piece of that story, but it melts away to nothing in my grasp, like thin ice between my fingers.

I dreamt last night. I know because dreamshards littered my mind when I awoke.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s