Monday, August 9, 2010
The Beautiful House
The other night I had a dream. I was in the grocery store and this amazingly gorgeous boy approached me and said, "Hello." I said, "Hey" back. For some odd reason I followed him home. His home was a giant Victorian mansion that belonged to a queen. It was a dark, rainy day. When I walked into the house, it was so bright and lovely I couldn't believe my eyes. There were diamond chandeliers, people in masks and gowns, and portraits in golden frames. When I looked down at myself, I was dressed to fit into this place. Everywhere people were staring at me. Like I didn't belong. But the boy that I'd met at the grocery store was just holding my hand up high and leading me on. The dream seemed to last for weeks. I remember leaving the beautiful house and coming back again and again. Nobody there spoke to me except him. Each time I came back I stayed longer and longer. And at the end of the dream, I was old and that was my life.