While the World Dissolves Around Us

While the World Dissolves Around Us

He parks across from my blue front door and I turn to him. ‘Want to come in for some coffee?’  He’s so lovely, all the confidence I’ve been faking drains away. ‘Y’know, or…’

But he’s shy too and his, ‘Or?’ comes out croaky. A caged bird flutters in my ribcage as he takes my hand.

Or…we strip naked and dance in the rain; we paint each other’s names in ten-metre-high letters; we sit here forever, as the street lights shatter to diamonds and the world dissolves around us.

But all I say is, ‘Or, I do have some hot chocolate.’

M J Lewis ©2015

In times of strife, take a deep breath and count to one hundred – one hundred words that is. Bit of a crazy week so far and half expected something angry to appear on the page. So what did we get – a call from the muse of love!

Many thanks firstly to Bjorn whose story supplied me with one vital two-letter word, full of possibilities. (Hope he’ll see it an inspiration rather than plagiarism.) A thank you to all who drop by and most especially to our newly liberated host, Rochelle, who also supplied the photo this week.

Click here for more rain soaked stories, where you might also notice I have come out, indeed emerged from behind my foxglove, with the same haircut only half a century on.