PROMPT: Dreams #300DaysOfFlashWriting

Updated: Sep 14, 2021

You are in her house. You know it is her house. Pale green carpets creep across the floors, they become the walls, painted mahogany, a greying tinge. It must be the dust.

She calls your name. Beckons you over. Her voice is gentle. You know it is her voice. But her face is different. Her strong features are blurred with blank. A nothing. A space. A space you can’t describe.

You ask her what happened to her face. She laughs and says it’s not about looks. It’s what's on the inside that counts. She hates to be vain.

Suddenly, the room is full with other voices. Voices you recognise. Voices you don’t. You don't know how they got here.

They ask you: Who are you talking to? You know she isn’t here? She can’t hear you. She can’t hear you.

She can’t hear you.

You are angry. She is here and she can hear me! You are screaming now. But you realise no sound is coming out of your mouth. She has gone. Your surroundings are unrecognisable. You are afraid. You scream again. Your voice is empty. Everything is blurring now. The house. The walls. A space you can’t describe.

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