Thursday, 23 February 2012

Raspberry dreams

Midnight. Almost. I lay awake looking continuosly at the big wooden clock. No sound. No movement. It was dark. Very dark and silent. For a second, I thought I had smelt something. Something nice. Raspberries, maybe. Or blueberries. But I thought my imagination was playing tricks on me, as usual. How wrong I was!
The clock finally anounced midnight. I closed my eyes trying to fall asleep. The smell of berries intensified, as my dream became more and more vivid and the forest through which I flew became clearer and clearer. It is difficult to think clearly when you are sleeping, but I suspected that something about that dream wasn't right. And then, when I woke up, I realised what it was. The door was locked and the windows clocked. There was no way in which the wind could have moved even the lightest paper from it's place. But my perfume bottle had moved from its place. It was at the floor. Broken. And the sweet raspberry perfume had expanded through all my room. Now the question is, how did it fall down?

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