Was it a dream?
Was it a Dream? Was it really a dream I had? The mansion was large and empty that afternoon. The ceilings were high, and the walls stood far apart. After a while, when the phone rang, that voice… that enchanting voice… entered my dome. And the walls fell down, and the ceilings opened to the sky. And the forest was there, with all its bright summer colours and scents. And then I knew. The dream I dreamt was mine to keep, and mine to feel, every other day when she couldn’t come and play. The dream I dreamt was mine to stay. Nuno Silva
