Adored

“I dreamed of him last night,” that was the first thing she said when she noticed I was entering the room. She did not even bother to check who was coming. But she knew, it was me.

She was half lying on the single sofa she put in front of her desk, and rested her head on one side of the arm rest with both feet hanging on the other side. Her eyes were fixed to the window presenting the shadowy  afternoon. But she was not really looking. I knew her mind was somewhere else. Maybe around the dream she just had last night.

“Him? That boy?” I asked her just to make sure because it was almost couple months ago since the last time she talked about that man I only knew from her story. I thought she had forgotten him. And I told her exactly that. Continue reading

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