reality through closed eyes
fiction
edward w pritchard
Open your eyes was said. Refusing ago, I must now patiently endure the reruns night after night in my dreams.
An elaborate illusion built on misinterpeted facts. Slowly, patiently the me in my subconcious explains and remodels the explanation. But the subconcious must be careful; for none so blind as they who refuse to see.
Diplomatically the subconcious reexplains. Each morning a glimmer of enlightenment. Then sliding back, back to illusion. How could it be. It seemed so real.
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