Thorn in my side
There is a sense that we were at the boardwalk, from the breeze that took your breath and threw your hair wrapping around your black hat "like a child not wanting you to say goodbye." Everystep clanking on the boards under our feet, and reverberating off the shop store windows your laughter shook my arm as a tremor eased down my side. But then again thats what you are a "tremor" cause everyone around you is effected by your light, blinded even. In front of us staggered two young children, the oldest was a girl delicatly leading the youngest "a boy" protecting him with every new step his fragile chubby legs could direct him. This one was clearly new to walking, judging by the way the distance became a struggle. I couldn't see those childrens faces but I knew they were ours, by the pleasure surrounding our laughs. Everything was in place, this dream was mine, and for the first time without a doubt I knew what I wanted. It was what I had this dream. She is the thorn in my side, and the love for which all others will be judged. Also the one which I'll never truly know, all I can remember is that black hair and trying to analize all those features I loved while she slept, knowing it would be the last time I would see her.