Ficly

Floating in the City of Dreams

I was hardly aware of the pavement as it drifted somewhere beneath me. The summer night was fragrant and still; slight rustlings reached my ears and I grinned like a schoolkid. Maybe someone else was getting lucky tonight as well. I glided home, content to enjoy one perfect date.

I have no idea how long I stood there, staring at my front door. Unwilling to step out of the night, I replayed the evening again and again in my mind, and Pauline’s kiss, her delicious kiss.

The thought of Phil finally drove me inside, but I danced up the stairs with feet only slightly heavier than before. I ignored the Tennyson quote stuck to my bedroom mirror as I stripped off and jumped into bed. Sleep called to me, smiling. I smiled back and welcomed her warm embrace.

Phil probably would kill me, but that was for another day.

View this story's 3 comments.