Of empty glasses and spilled wine...

Loud laughter and unsaid words
Dirty shoes and tiring trips
Broken promises and dreams that come true
Tears of pain and a healing hand
Empty packs of cigarettes and overflowing ashtrays
Smoke filled rooms and free thoughts
Cool sea breeze and a sunken ship
Beautiful melodies and melancholy nights
........

Ruins

There's something quite fascinating about ruins, the ones overgrown with green and brown and broken shards. Its difficult to resist scrapping off the peels from the dilapidation, find the fascinating worms underneath.
She wonders why would anyone build them in the very first place, in the midst of desolation. Far from civilization that would care for all it is worth. Or is it that the ruins caused the desolation.
Why should she even want to know, be a part of the ruins, and the life it held once. Its really not hers to encroach, probe, look at....

Humans are such trespassers !!



.

Back to reality

She knew she'd have to someday.
Walk back to the real world, drag herself through the ordeal already described to her in great detail.
She hopes the dreamer doesn't die though. She's loved that part of her make believe world. Her cocoon of safety.
The hands held out are strong and sure, but her step quivers with uncertainty and trepidation. 
She should perhaps she run away for a few more days?