The Letter

Looking for words, nicer, softer, fluffy. To drain out emotions and feelings, to pass time. I once pleaded poetry to stay with me, probably did not work. Not sure. A little face, with beautiful eyes asked me, “Do you know me?” “ I am a stranger, are you allowed to talk to stranger?” “ I don’t know.” “ I don’t know, either.” Dreams are like showering rain, dreams are like thunders. Dreams with gullibility, dreams with negativity, dreams with total nothingness. “ Are you allowed to dream? Outside routine work?” “We are kid landers. We do not need dream interpreters. We can manage our dreams. Can you?” A little pause. A little pondering. “Kid landers do cry, don’t they?” “Why are you asking ?” “I need a day to fix the understanding. It’s a holiday for understanding. Need to catch tomorrow.” “ Don’t forget, I will wait then.” “I will not. Stay.”