Sewed shut…

this is one good read…the blend, the view. everything

THE IDEALISTIC REALIST

Today I woke up and I couldn’t feel my lips. On touching them, I realized they had been sewn shut. In confusion I darted around my room to ascertain whether I was really awake or had found myself in the mid of a lucid nightmare.

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He sat there. Across the room. Concentrating keenly on passing the thread through the needle’s eye. My eyes darted from the needle in his hand, to the yarn of thread carelessly laying on the table in front of him. I had bought him that yarn a couple of years back. It wasn’t like any other ball of yarn. The thread was gold; leaning towards a bright yellow. It looked glorious and the mere sight of it made one think it was the king of all threads. Power burst so obviously through each fibre. I bought it for him for this purpose. Power always seemed to…

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