By Tim Roberts
Last night I dreamt of you.
As you touched my lips, you offered me your poison. I willingly accepted it. Then, once I had drained you of your essence, I watched you fall to the floor and crushed you underfoot. Soon, like the others, you will be nothing more than a bad taste. I observe you rolling back and forth at my feet until you’re carried away by the next fine breeze. Gone forever.
When I wake, I tell myself I won’t do this again. But already I’m fumbling in my pockets, searching for the one that will be the last.
Your story a sublime trap, pulling the reader in, only to reveal a struggle that might be a personal one, but one not recognized until the trap drops! Well done. As a recovering smoker, this story hit the seductive and hopelessness aspects of cigarette addiction.
Thanks for you feedback DeRicki. It’s always appreciated.
Great stuff! Pulled me right in, surprised me. Well done!