Ficlets

I stared at the crumpled pettles, trying to remember every detal of my fading dream. Not willing to let go of the red flower I climb out of my bed and try to shake off the add felling lingering in the back of my mind.

I walk to the bathroom and still unable to drop the pettles I juggle them while I prepare for the long day. No matter what I try to think about all it seems to be is that girl…and the rose.

I stuck the pettle inside a thick book of mine, on my favrite page, and take that as with the rest of my belongings down stairs to the kitchen, my mind in a sort of ‘twilight zone.’