THREE 100 WORD STORIES

The Reality of Kites Sleeping, for most, is the negative space. Dark Matter. The absence of a void. Simple. But my sleep is purposeful—it’s reality. My friends worry, as the weather grows cold and the darkness descends. They think I’m descending too. And maybe I am. But what can I do; when the whole world is shrinking into itself, scattering shells and memory across the ground. Like Summer was a dream. When I sleep, the whole world is alive again—I have control. I compose songs. I direct films. I ran with a kite and it blew me away. The...

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