Day Three.

I used to dream I was as little as a bee, and I lived on the top of a white daisy. I still remember, 'cuz I still love the feeling.




"In the dream he had that night, which lately forgot, he was holding Paul Auster's son's hand, and smiling at him while the blond little kid was playing with his yo-yo." The Red Notebook, P. Auster.



Flash Three
-Jack nodded as he bit the last moan of the morning. He was pretty tired of waiting for the time to go back home, and every hour had felt like an eternity since classes had started.
Tired as I am right now.-


We are everywhere.
A quiet heartbeat
Your quiet beats shine like millions
Race runner you shine like millions
Have we come too far to get home?
You sleep.
As small stars fly back home