09C15FF4-8E73-4C02-9B0B-44F284FD4F61

Last night, I had the dream about tornadoes again. We drove east and escaped to an adventure park. The sky turned grey and I saw the clouds form a face that slowly turned to me. I bent down, afraid. I asked you– does it see me? You were watching it, the clouds turning your eyes to glass. It is blowing smoke, you said. It is not moving.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s