Written for Sunday Whirl Wordle 665
where we are to turn the word salad shown below
into a story or poem. Here is my story.
SHADOW MAN
It was a sense rather than actually seeing … his unmistakable silhouette inching closer to the back of my room. I used to have dreams where I would find myself stuck in a deep well and I would call out to anyone up on the surface for help. He would run to the well and drop a rope over the edge. I would climb up, elated to be rescued! My windswept hair was in a tangle and I reached out to pull him closer, to have him take me into his arms and trail warm kisses down my neck … but he was only a shadow and not a real man. I would awaken, saddened by the thought that my dreams would never come true. But tonight, as I recline on my bed tracing sketches of him on the sheet with my finger, I feel his presence in flesh and blood; I am eager to embrace my mysterious shadow man.
NAR©2024
This is “Golden Years” by David Bowie
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