X bit hard down into her bottom lip, rewarding herself for devious, full moon reverie. It was hard to fall asleep without the feeling of hands clawing to her core. She was fully unamused with her own sense of boredom. A feeling that came often, and always without due cause. So much was yet to come. She could feel her future setting the table. And yet…
That’s the trouble with dreamers. It’s never as good as what was, or what could be, or the coffee talk. It’s never now. It’s some other time and place. Future, past. She ran fully on things to look forward to. Fantasies to lazily play with in that time between just barely awake and just a bit more awake. That precious time when it is almost possible for none of this to be real.
What of me is actually mine? She typed. So many pieces lent out to so many borrowers. Given back muddied with finger prints and misunderstandings.
She would be moving to New York soon. A fantasy come… cross my fingers! Blissful, gritty reality. Shame.
She was just finally starting to feel solid.