Light rushing into the room without invitation blinded her. Pulling the covers around her shoulders, she turned, burying her face into her chin, her long black hair falling over her eyes. Space between asleep and awake, she felt heavy as she plodded through thick, impervious sand dunes in her head. “A few minutes more”, she heard. Loud words, she couldn’t tell if she actually spoke it or thought it.
Like morning fog lifting, she slowly opened her eyes. A gentle breeze from the open window felt unfamiliar on her skin. Its loving caress reminded her she was through the worst of her withdrawal. For a moment she wondered if this time it would last. How many times she had wanted the words to prove true. “You will love again the stranger who was yourself.”
Neither Atheist nor Saint, only human, desperately reaching for hope.
Monday prompt for dversepoetspub.com is “Prosery” exactly 144 words of flash fiction prose including the line “You will love again the stranger who is yourself.”
Praying for the multitudes who suffer with addiction.