This story was inspired by Letters From Wonderland™ The extract above will appear in Wonderland’s Museum of Dust when doors open.
If you were here…
…I’d wind you in my arms, as Titania to Bottom
Let me take you on a journey of your own imagination
Let us stroll together through the palace of your dreams
This night you can have
Your secret wish
Your most heartfelt desire
I daren’t tell you I feel
My fingers stumble over the keyboard
My mouth can’t shape the words.
I breathe out just a little
He plays a note and the audience turn. He plays another and they go still…
Please forgive me
I wasn’t intended to be written this way
I have been launched, unedited,
Into a world that demands perfection
I am unformed, unfinished
I am rough about my edges
I pine to touch you.
To hold you in my hands.
To smell the scent of you, to let my fingers trace your outlines, for my ears to delight at your sounds, to let my mouth taste the shape of you.
the insomnia the alarm the shower the coffee the commute
a hastily scanned timeline a facebook status update
What if you’d left early? What if I’d been late?
The law of unintended consequences, the unimagined result of a throwaway tweet.