Rough Draft 2

She rose from the bed.  The sheets were bunched up from a restless night.  She stepped out of the door into the night air, the city blinking beneath her.  She had awoken after he left, but before the sun started brightening the horizon.  She turned and looked at  her reflection in the large glass windows that went all the way from the ceiling to the floor.  She looked pale, but felt good – better than she had in a long time.  She turned, climbed onto the balcony railing, stretched her arms out on either side to shape her body like a tormented crucifix and…

She woke up.

Stupid dream.  She hated heights and hated the thought of falling even more.  Thank God she woke up again before her subconscious went all vertigo on her.  She pulled herself out from other the comforter and shuffled her way to the bathroom.  She was wearing her usual sleeping uniform for this time of year – a t-shirt, sweat pants and socks.  Comfort before vanity.  Besides, she hadn’t shared her bed with anyone for quite a while now.

The reflection in the mirror was less than she expected.  Her sandy blond hair was in perfect “bedhead” formation and her eyes looked puffy. Did anyone look good when they first woke up?  She showered and sat down to check her email.  Nope.  Nothing.  Typical.  Seemed like ever since she had moved here, her social life had gone backward instead of forward.  Bright lights, big city.  Yeah, whatever.

She never heard him.  Just felt a brutal pain that made the world go phosphorous white and then slowly faded into semi-focus. The world tilted and she dropped to the floor.  Strangely, she didn’t feel terrified – just very, very angry. Then everything went red…

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About bgm1969

This blog is updated by a guy who’s overweight, silly, Liberal, spiritual rather than religious, infatuated with beauty and grace, musically blessed, and always changing.

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