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Short Stories: Inner Battle
Inner Dream:
In a dream, A mucus pest next to my booth stands firm-handed on my delicate florals... He runs his hands across the fine stitch work and whistles under his flared moustache. Alongside, voice… a scent's voice.
Mediocre he insisted while she gently whispered “RUN”
I ask myself why I should run….no one has caused any harm...I wasn’t even insulted...why would I run?
Just take a seat next to your exhibit... I’m sure he will walk away soon…
He makes no move...continuously looking through my art...the panic rises… Finally, he turns around and walks away… I can breathe once again... I turn to my booth and immediately realize I’m missing my main piece… I run towards him...but as I reach him….he vanishes…. My dream fades.
The woman’s voice rings in my head continuously insisting on running…
But friend...there is no one here or there. My loneliness is creating horror scenes in my head. Gosh of a troubled soul.
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