Tuesday, December 1st
A silver-haired man was sleeping peacefully under the covers.
His sleeping features were capable of enticing any girl who looked at them.
Suddenly, his eyelids started moving slightly.
From the carousel of random ideas comes some order - a subtle awareness of who he was under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to his waking life.
After a few moments more the silver-haired man began to analyze them in a lazy way, perhaps these ideas are meant to be kept.
Some are composed as if from a book he once read, some are just silly.
In another moment they are gone leaving no trace.
If they are still in his head there is no bread crumb trail back to them.
His eyelids with long silver eyelashes flicker open to the unlit room.
No daylight.
He closes them again, willing the carousel to return, for his mind to tumble back to dreams, but it won't.
