I piled my old, dried-out dreams into the bottom of the bare wooden boat. With the strength in my shoulders I heaved it out towards the horizon and, almost casually, dropped in a match. The flames flickered higher as the boat flared into the night, dreams becoming stars, each for their moment.
3 thoughts on “Old dreams”
Sad, beautiful and wonderful….
Sad, beautiful and wonderful…
Thanks Ross. Pleased you liked it.