Image courtesy of Magpie Tales
Dreams, so cruel, thriving on a memory astonishingly lavish and real. I dam the ravaging disease that took your sweet love from me. I have only the single picture to stare at, and those fabulous memories you gifted me with your spirit. Memories that now seem as if they must have been fictitious creations of wishful thought.
Each night is the same, an evening forsaken to the the desolate companionless realm of a sorrow so deep and lasting. Longing to hear even a whisper of your voice, feel the tenderness of your brushing touch. I stare at your picture on the wall, and relegate my self to restless sleep, inaugurated with a tear soaked pillow. The dreams come of those memories you left, cherished, tangible, and idyllic.
I ask you, no plead with you, how can I move on when I’m insufferably lost in love with a memory. A memory so true and real to my mind, it’s impossible to overcome. The days have passed, one by one, turning to weeks, then months, and finally to years. Must I pause in waiting for the decades to elapse?
This short fiction is just that, fiction. Inspired by Magpie Tales, and her treachery in capturing my imagination with this picture. Feel not sorrow for me, yet hold a little compassion for that poor unfortunate character who developed in my thoughts.