Metaphors of Time

Time

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Storyteller~Written in third person style

(Writing in third person is writing from the third person point of view and uses pronouns like he, she, it, or they. It differs from the first person, which uses pronouns such as I and me, and from the second person, which uses pronouns such as you and yours.

 

Why is SHE over thinking, misplacing things? Most everyday dealing with those Reality Shifters that move the strangest items around on her  Her thoughts and movements faster than they should be. She needs to Slow down. It’s pretty bad when you find what you were looking for only to put it some place and forget again where you put it.

Since the New Year she has noticed many things happening at warp speed. Her mind can’t seem to catch up.
Little things seem proportionally big and big things seem small. Some days she literally feels as if she is on a hamster wheel going round and round. Things get misplaced, in the way, fall, break, make a mess that otherwise would not be.  Her sleep is erratic, and filled with spiders and scorpions, ex lovers, strange unfamiliar men.

She feels out of sorts like when some one misses something and has not a clue what is so elusive.

Than again it Could be the Valium she is prescribed to take TWICE everyday but doesn’t usually take.

Her daughter is telling her friend all about her travels.
Half the places she did not ever know about…

“Do I know you?”

 

“In your dreams”

She had THE  Tangier Escape all misaligned.

But as she says:

“that is what I remember.’’”

She was Not even three yet. Storyteller was barely 23. Even after all the years past she can not believe the adventure embarked upon. Traveling through Europe with a husband, backpack and baby on her back.

OK?

Who is too say what and how far back we can remember?

She heard persons say when you are near death you go all the way back to the womb.  Father said he had gotten to his early teens. He had six months too do so. He made it to seven months.

If they did NOT pass what did they remember?

Storyteller’s Mother on the other hand was whole heartily dedicated too an occult like religious.

She said:

“I had lost so much blood from my leg surgeries. They did NOT give me blood as I demanded. They cut out two huge fatty bulges from my thighs. They did both at the same time. I was in recovery for over a year because the wounds had to heal from the inside out.”

She said:

“Impeding Death was so dark, no light”.

Storyteller inquired. and she said:

” She couldn’t even begin to describe it and wanted too forget.”

The storyteller always wondered with her beliefs why she had those views. After her husband passed, she was living on her own in a different residence and local.
She said there were lots of spiders on her ceiling at night. They would come down and than suddenly disappear.

From my other Blog

daymare-naps-and-nocturnal-nights

OK, the valium has storyteller’s eyes going South.

Dream Sweet

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Author: cryominute

In my mind are the castles of a realm unseen Come, join me on my flight

Love to Hear from You

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