childhood

And she woke up with a million tales to tell

“Tell me a story” she said trying to coach the little boy. She even smiled and picked some lint of his shorts. But he just sat there next to her rocking side to side. She sat there perplexed wondering what little boy doesn’t want to share a story.

She asked him again for a tall tale. But he just stared ahead. It was beautiful out there. When she was a kid, she couldn’t stop talking. It had been like a sickness. Or so she had been told. But this little boy just breathed and stared.

She looked around and closed her eyes. She listened to the air and the sun. She soon fell asleep and dreamt some wild dreams. And she woke up with a million tales to tell.

5 replies »

  1. A million stories forged in the mind of a mad man
    Are a million lies to the sanity of those less scarred souls
    A million stories forged in the mind of a sane person
    Are a million taunts to the sanity of those permanently afflicted

    Ps; a cool little post, short and perfect to read and deliver its meaning

    Like

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