In my dreams I’m always standing on the edge, the world below blocked by a thick white mist. Something tugs at my heart and a chorus echoes in my ear, though the words are indistinguishable. Sometimes I have wings and I can go up, though never down. When I soar, the mist parts, but I’m too high to see anything below. Except the boy. His blue eyes piece mine, and they call to me. And I want to go to him, but I can’t.
I wake with a heavy heart, wondering if my dreams are merely dreams, or something more.
#I wrote this to win an Arc for a new series by Lauren Destefano, author of Wither, Fever and Sever. The comp is open until March 31st and the giveaway is international. You can find out details for the comp at
http://laurendestefano.livejournal.com/1590.html
The prompt was: In 100 words or less, write a piece of flash fiction about a person who would live in city that floated in the clouds – which is the setting for her new series.
This is what I came up with , hope you like it 🙂
Rochelle L. Sharpe 