She Sings in Her Sleep

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Stood beneath a streetlight on a road belonging to any town or city you could think of, I suck on my cigarette and listen to something I can’t see but of which I know is there nonetheless. I’ve felt it my entire life, and although I’ve no proof of its existence other than the sensations it stirs within, I’m certain it’s out there. Most would say I’m unusual. Many would say far worse, but while those I rub shoulders with during the day are either sleeping or dancing to the sound of sounds in a hive of nightclubs and bars, I’m chasing shadows that lead me to places they wouldn’t believe. The moon looks so pretty, and when I blow the smoke from out of my mouth, it swirls and swirls around that pale rock in such a way that it makes me surrender to the strangeness even more. Perhaps once I was like them, for I can remember a time when our paths were aligned as was the nature of our hearts, but the call of the great beyond was just too much to resist. And now here I am. Here I will always be, seeking a truth that will more than likely see me ruined. But on nights such as these, it feels so close. The other side. The music of the universe. Is it a song she sings in her sleep, or a tune that belongs to neither time nor place? On the edge of nowhere, the answer seems both agonisingly close and stupidly distant. To be caught in such a predicament will no doubt drive me mad, but that music… I just can’t help but be drawn to that which places my spirit among the stars.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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