Hey all. I posted this a while ago but I'm posting it again, for good reason. Theres this writing competition run by a local university that I'm entering soon in which I need to submit 4 short, fictional pieces by September. So anyway, people seem to like this one when i show it to them and I'm rather fond of it too, so I'm gonna submit it. What I want to know is:
-Obviously, do you think this is a good piece?
-Should I extend it?
-Would it be to the liking of a panel of expert judges?
Thanks for any feedback you can give me. Enjoy.
A Dream
The sky was rising and falling, threatening in way, like the actions of your lungs breathing in the mist. We were lying under it in a field of transparent flowers; wilting and weakening like my hopes to find a better place. The trees on the edge of my sight were swaying but there was no wind. Perhaps they felt the need to leave too. You stood up and beckoned for me to do the same, so I did. I placed my hand in yours. You whispered to me, and I heard you clearly above the restlessness of the sky. "This is the end," you said, and I knew exactly what you meant.
Hand in hand we ran from the field and through the town we knew as home. It was deserted but for a few birds that had chosen this as their ending. Running never felt so light on my feet and you seemed like you were floating, though the ground still supported you. The bloodshot eyes of the city were no longer stopping traffic, because the traffic had stopped long before it reached that line. We ran down alley after alley searching for a way to get higher. Then as if by some power of the imagination, we found one. We ascended to the top of a building so we could see all that was left behind, and to be the first volunteers when the sky made its choice.
At the apex of desolation that we had chosen we stared into each other’s eyes, shimmering, like pools of starlight being hit by tiny rock after tiny rock. This was our existence, waxing and waning with my belief in the moon. By now the sun had gone down beyond the ominous hills that formed the horizon, without a goodbye. The sky was still rising and falling, writhing with indecision over whether or not anyone would notice its suicide. It was close to a resolution though. So close I picked a star from it and gave it to you. You accepted it and threw it off the side of the building; just for the joy of knowing you outlived part of the sky.
We had not long left now and we both knew it. We kissed in the last remaining moments of our world and though your lips tasted like ashes, it had never been so good. We didn’t care anymore, there was nothing left to lose. My last words to you were, "If this is a dream, then it is a good dream." You pushed your hair out of your face and said to me, "This is a dream," and with that we drifted off into indifference. The sky collided with the earth and I remember nothing more.
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