“There’s a long line tonight.” The familiar voice behind me speaks after hours of silence.
“See that silver lining?” a crack of golden light and then darkness.
“Let me go first?” his grin is widening.
“Not even in your dreams.” I grin back and like that we are long-lost friends.
You’re shivering, take my coat.”
I look down to see a black tutu, fishnet stockings and a skull patterned t-shirt.
His coat smells of winter tea, all mandarins and almonds. The air, one huge cigarette puff exhaled overhead.
The door cracks; I see a figure standing there. “Not without exchange.”
I reach into my chest and pull out a tiny piece, a shard really, of who I am and place it in his bowl.
The figure examines and approves. “If you are a dreamer, come in,” and I enter the eternal warmth of paradise.
Tonight’s d’Verse Prosery prompt from Lillian asks us to write a piece of prose (flash fiction, memoir, nonfiction) that is 144 words or less (mine is exactly 144) and includes, word-for-word, the line , “If you are a dreamer, come in” a line from Shel Silverstein’s poem “Invitation” from Where the Sidewalk Ends. Join us.
If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer . . .
If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire,
For we have some flax golden tales to spin.