The Call of the Siren
On a spring day when you lie on your back, eyes closed, with that first dapple falling upon blinkered retinas, and the warmth of sunshine on our shoulders, you could be just about anywhere. It’s the flush of a new dawn, a renewal. Belief. The death of winter and the birth of hope. An entreaty. Please don’t go.
And you rest a while. And you dream of far away places and long lost memories. And those dreams offer temptation, like sirens they draw you closer, to dip a toe, to throw yourself in. But this is not a Californian dream, the water is cold and the currents are strong. But just for that moment, the dream offers promise, and promise is enough.
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