Phone calls are so usual, unending silences fill them. Texting is now widely regarded as the best way to propagate misunderstanding. Yes, we had letters. Now we converse in dreams.

In a particularly strange dream last night, I found myself hovering over the sand, at the beach where we walked, wiping away all of my footprints on the path we walked. The ocean did nothing to help. You saw me and smiled; asked me how would I remove the imprints of my letters from your skin where you’d held them. I said I’ll tear up all the letters and you looked away angrily.

This morning, I woke up to find my fingers smarting, covered in paper-cuts.


This entry was published on February 18, 2015 at 21:47. It’s filed under Stories and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “Paper-Cut

  1. Mikavelli on said:

    This was a beautiful metaphor combining the metaphysical with the concrete world.

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