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    In the Unused Room, A Spirit Came

    The sitting room was sealed in quiet grace—A shrine of plastic, glossy, airless chill;The doilies kept their lace as if in placeBy vows his grandmother had willed to will.He knew the dream; he knew the dream knew him—A lucid...

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    • Powerfully penned, ST. Excellent storytelling along with top notch imagery my friend. Amazing write. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • As I appreciate you, so much! And this one was one of those written because I just HAD to find a place to put the emotion. My sister and I were lifelong best friends, but we had a falling out over money owed about a year and a half ago. I was shot in the leg, and pretty messed up, bed-ridden for all of September with a lot of time to think.

      I resolved it in myself to make things right with her no matter what, but then Oct. 6th she suddenly passed away. I had such grief, regret, guilt, if only I’d have called her from the ICU even. But I had this wonderful dream (though the parts with my father were more disturbing), and this just flowed so quickly out of me, one of those ultra-rare occasions where is landed on the page as fast as I could jot it down (I suppose ones like this maybe are pre-written in our subconscious?)

      I doubted myself in sharing it, that the religious/spiritual aspects might be off-putting, so almost didn’t post it, plus there are some “inside details” that make parts of it opaque, but I suppose it still works regardless. SO glad you engaged with it, and it read as story to you, it really is just a description of this vivid dream that undid any guilt and made me feel like it was all okay, my sister is still out there, and has forgiven anything of me… a real cathartic write for me, but I guess not so overly personal that others can’t still get something out of it.

      Thank you, thank you, you have me writing again without it being such a wrestling with the pen.

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