She calls me Zeba

A dream… a story… a memory…

I lay on the prickly brown-green grass, reading a book. I have a lot of time here, in this dream. This little town in the lap of mountains pampers me. I feel like a child in possession of peace and happiness again. I don’t worry about the bills, the job, the monies, the false friends, and even the repercussions of being ‘myself’ with kin. I am far away from all that – I’m with happiness here.