Sweet Dreams
© 2000, Herb Hasler
She had rolled the dice and come up empty.
Duped again. There would be no more celebrations, no flamboyant dances to the
hollow sound of the zither. A ton of regrets had crushed their fragile bond and
now, with drawbridge drawn, his castle seemed as empty as a black hole.
She dreamed of hopscotch through his chalk
outline as she stared into his starched expression, a tinge of yellow in his
navy blue eyes.
“What are you staring at?” he asked.