Friday, April 12, 2013

55 Fiction Friday

Employing Jonathan Livingston Seagull thinking, I strained to believe I could fit inside the keyhole, that I was standing in the keyhole.  Suddenly I was.

I couldn't believe it.

I was dreaming which meant I could control things, could even fly! 

That's how I fell thirty-three inches to my death. It was no dream.

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