Tonight I dreamt of us in front of our house in
You were sitting in the rocking chair in the patio knitting a blanket, and I was refreshing wooden fence with white paint. Cerulean sky extended over vast neighborless expanse, all the way to the black line of the horizon. We were being silent as the wind trailed around the trees and chimed chain links of the swing hanging from the tree branch in our yard.
In the next moment I found myself kneeling in font of you, holding your face in the palms of my hands and kissing you warmly and contented like we have our whole lives in front of us. When I, with smile wider than the
“Does it hurt?”
And before I could even ask: “What?” I lowered my gaze to my shirt drenched with blood.
* * *
In the morning I could not get up.