Will Stanton (
lightbranded) wrote in
paradisa2013-09-23 05:33 pm
Entry tags:
Dictated
[Will awakes slowly and stares up at the ceiling. There had been a dream, and perhaps even more than a dream. He was quite sure of that. But the details fled from his memory even as he tried to clutch onto them.
Only one thing remained. A part, a piece of a rhyme. And the certainty that it must be told.
Slowly he begins reciting it to the journal in a quiet singsong voice, almost sounding like he was reciting a children's rhyme.]
Looking in windows, knocking on doors,
They need to take seven and they might take yours.
Only one thing remained. A part, a piece of a rhyme. And the certainty that it must be told.
Slowly he begins reciting it to the journal in a quiet singsong voice, almost sounding like he was reciting a children's rhyme.]
Looking in windows, knocking on doors,
They need to take seven and they might take yours.

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