Me.

A Distant Yawn.

It was 9 on a Sunday morning.

The sunlight danced through the windows and bathed the room in serenity. The fan spun ever so slowly above, and the air was cool.

I was sound asleep, enjoying what I knew was a wonderful dream.

So peaceful. So warm.

...

... And then the phone rang.
And I awoke. I couldn't go back to sleep after. And I can't remember what I dreamed of.

Thank you Gillian.

Given a certain level of thought byAdam Dewind at 10:55 AM  

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