It feels like a dream, both impossible and true. Perhaps it is the echoes of their emotions, oscillating wildly in her presence. Terror and relief. Trauma and awe. The purified, unreserved feelings so rare in waking life.
But it is more, I think. Waves os nostalgia. It feels somehow like my dream. The dream.
Then, it passes. And she is a little girl again.
A little girl who's lost her father.
But it is more, I think. Waves os nostalgia. It feels somehow like my dream. The dream.
Then, it passes. And she is a little girl again.
A little girl who's lost her father.