First Published in Dark Animus, Issue 3, May 2003, for the Poem, Cure All, by Mark McLaughlin.
A Drabble by Marcia Borell
Sleep! It would be so lovely to close my eyes and sleep. To stretch and relax into fresh sheets and feel the heaviness of my eyelids as they slowly close. I long to feel my breath become deep and easy filling my lungs with lilac scented air.
Dreams! To fly, run, fall, dance, to dream instead of counting the seconds, minutes, and hours as the hands on my clock continue to move.
The dream maker was my only hope. He sprinkled his magic dust in my forever open eyes as I sadly stared past him into my empty non-existent dreams.