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She felt it !


Fans blades cutting through the swamp of gaseous mixture, pushed the air past her voluminously, dried out her perspiring numbness and stroked her chilling facetiousness. Ursula sat her self on the bed; her frock frolicking over the floor ran up towards the bed over her, forming a veil of detachment. Her dark leather shoes with pinned up mounds of red triangular velvets, pursued their delicacy in distancing her from the uncouthness beneath them. Ursula slipped her shoes off her feet, observed as they fell down, slowly she moved her feet, and slowly she put her feet on the floor.

A tinge of shock wave ran down her spine, spitting goose bumps on her nape and back, she shivered, held her fists tight, took huge gasps of breath, slowly the rudeness gave way to a proposition, to confer or to confute the passive support proffered upon her. Goose bumps retreated back, all of them together, as if the central nervous system in a fitful anger, spat hot molten fluid over the epithelial layers on the inside, and the liquid tried naturally to make its reentry into the atmosphere, to escape from the clenches of the hollowness and emptiness on the inside. But her nervous system timely pardoned her misdemeanor, cooled the fluid, and the oozing predicament was killed gracefully.

The sumptuous ceramic tiles withdrew into loops dragging with them the softness bestowed from above on them; her spine sent the sensory impulses to every dead cell in her body, to rejuvenate the life in them. She pushed her advantage, took a couple of steps forward, blood pumped from her heart expressed it’s rejoice filling those lively and active feet, nerves relished the imposed and yet spontaneous advantage accrued out of a sensible endeavor.

She smiled with her lips widened; her fingers found solace in the warmth of her chin, and eye lashes furthering their composed features straightened out to seek the solitaire bliss before the life behind them does. Ursula stretched her arms with floating tendencies, her pale and smooth skin fondled air, teased the passive melancholy, appeased the archaic verses hidden deeper beneath the rustic and fluid superficial cloak.

She endeavored to push her form, past the veil of disarray, to enchant and suffocate the curls and froths of the veil, to inject her life into threads of conscience, squirm through the needle of audacity, disentangle the veil of disarray, unfurl it, and finally sew it, sew it into propriety.

She emptied her thoughts and lunged forward through transparency, currents of energy flowed over her, encircled her, billowed up instantly and she transpired through the veil into the outer space...hollowness around her, emptiness, calmness, she felt alone, naked. She looked around her, corrosive vacuum around her, she felt awkward, and her senses were dysfunctional, for there was no object to sense, no smell, and no sound, haunting, unapproachable, she was an intruder on this land of disbelief. She did not intend to disjoin her functional and optimistic world, to this desolate loneliness, an impending darkness, shallow breathlessness. In mournful dejection, she turned back and she watched as the visual impairment gripped her, unabashed, she looked down at her feet, and her tragic impetuousness danced in her head, for there was no ground beneath her feet. No feeling, she even left her slippers near her bed, she felt weightless, but her head, something was up with her head, it was heavy, almost unbearable, smothered her, she felt pivoted by her head, her head stayed stable in this multidimensional plateau, and the rest of her body revolved round it, her neck craved, she reasoned. Her head rolled over from a supposed higher plain to a lower one, and the rest of her body swung along, pivoted by her head, robbed her of sense, or her ability to make sense. Slowly, the round object came to rest, and Ursula felt, a feeling, 'on this plateau', she thought, and then she woke up.

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