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In Your Body is the Garden of Flowers

In Your Body is the Garden of Flowers

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Published by shems99
This is a personal book I wrote mostly in 2010, although its origins go back many years earlier. It is a collection of stories within stories; of tales that weave as if in dreamscape. Enjoy...
This is a personal book I wrote mostly in 2010, although its origins go back many years earlier. It is a collection of stories within stories; of tales that weave as if in dreamscape. Enjoy...

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Published by: shems99 on Feb 15, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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02/15/2011

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In Your Body is the Garden of Flowers Kingsley L. Dennis
In Your Body is the Garden of Flowers
Kingsley L. Dennis
Creative Commons Copyright
 
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‘What would you like’?‘Sorry?’‘What would you like , something to drink? Coffee?’‘I don’t know…. What would you suggest?‘That depends on whether you are hungry or not… areyou hungry?’‘I don’t know… am I?’‘How can I know… are you? Or are you thirsty?’‘I’m not sure what I feel…’‘Are you sure you feel alright?’‘This is really weird…’‘It sure is… are you wasting my time?’‘Have we met before?’‘I don’t think so…’‘Are you sure?’‘Pretty sure’‘Would you know if we had?’‘I think I would. I recognise most of the faces aroundhere, although there are less and less these days. Badtimes y’know. Well, I sure don’t recognise yours’‘Oh… that’s strange’‘Why is that?’‘I don’t know how I know this… but..’‘Know what?’‘That I love you….’
 
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It feels like there is no waking up. I pull the sheets away and I see a white canvas of light, as if another bed sheethad fallen over my eyes. I’m trying to find my way through to the next room, perhaps make a cup of coffee; to do something that will show me I am nolonger asleep. But it’s a sweet feeling, laying here amidstthe soft warm waves of last night’s sleep grooves. I feelthe mattress is cradling me. Hard to move; yet I must. A soft haze hits me through the windows as I cross thefloor. I move slowly…perhaps the body is inebriated with some dream filaments still clinging lazily to me likehungry creatures. Hazily I brew the coffee pot and sitdown. Somehow I know its going to be a warm day. SoI stand up with the thought of pulling open the kitchendoors onto a bright outside. I do so, and a sudden smellof greenery and flowery stalks enters the nostrils. It’s sogreat to be alive…or am I still dreaming?‘Excuse me?’‘Sorry?’‘I thought you said something?’‘No, I didn’t….’‘Were you just dreaming then?’‘I’m not sure…maybe I was’‘You need some more coffee?’

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