And I wonder as I lay here, in this sleepless field of dreams..

HELLO!

Somehow you've stumbled upon my blog, scraping the ends of the internet for something interesting.

Instead you found this.
I hope I don't put you to sleep.


Stories of fiction and fact lie dormant in this digital journal. Anything labelled with fiction junction is just that: fiction.

STORIES

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do you think of me when I think of you

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as the nighttime slowly sings...?

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refraction
Jul 12, 2017 || 8:13 AM || comment?

[originally written 02.03.07]
[minor edits have been made]


My fingers caressed the ivory keys. From above, the crystal chandelier caught billions of streams of light. And as the light waves bent in the many prisms, spots of multi-colored light were cast on the bare walls. This room was my room, a lonely little piece hidden away in the expanse of this house. The chandelier was the only friend of my grand piano.

There were no chairs save for the piano seat. There were no paintings hung on the wall, no exquisite vases to give the room a flavor. Often times, I came in here not to be alone, but to be loved.

Pressing all the right keys meant that the piano would sing for me a glorious tune. Pulling back the curtains meant I fed the chandelier and in turn, the chandelier told me a story full of color, full of life. As a child, I had no patience for such things. I never thought being alone could be satisfying. I always tried to get the attention of those around me, and sometimes it would work. When people wouldn't listen, I would go outside to tell the flowers about the adventures of my day. But too soon would the flowers die, and I would soon accept the concept of being alone.

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