Sunday, 15 July 2007

Tears For Layla

The smoke from the cigarette escaped his lips. Again. He was sitting by the balcony door watching it rise by the side and escape from the edge. He had a weird dream last night and he still could not figure out why he had woken up crying from it. As he recalled, he had dreamt of kissing a girl-nay, a beautiful girl. He had had the dream before but he had never woken up like that from it. When he told his friends, they'd said that probably if he had talked to them at that time, he would have told them...but obviously, they did not know that he wanted to call someone, anyone and tell him/her why he had's just that people don't take someone calling them at 4am lightly...that too, for a dream.

He looked outside and saw the sun shining brighter than it had shone yesterday. The smoke rose and got lost in the air, too thin and light to be seen, lost like the reasons and answers in his head. He remembered her voice clearly, it was beautiful and it broke all the silence that surrounds for all eternity.

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