[ IP ] Ending

Never Ending 
 
 
 *Breathe. 1…2…3* 
 
 
 Ella watched as soft violin notes passed blissfully through the air. Cosmic rifts tore in and out of the creamy white sky, and the small sewn cat of her youth tugged at her sleeve. Looking down she also could see that she was wearing the same clothes, it was the same clothing every time she came here. A white blouse pulled over black jeans, and red boots with a thick heel. She was lucid dreaming again. Or at least that ’ s what it felt like each time she came here. A perfect world blended from her safest thoughts and memories. From when things were better, from when she wasn ’ t so alone. The sewn cat continued to tug and pull at her sleeves, gesturing down a beaten path. It motioned. Ella followed. 
 
 Stuffing poked out in tuffs from behind the ragdolls ears, the stitching old and frayed. Ella kept passing her eyes over the cat, watching it walk down the path upright, on its stubby back legs. 
 The path was lined with floating portraits that held Ella ’ s memories, each one depicting her with her husband. Better times, when she didn ’ t need this dreamscape to not feel so alone. She had walked this dream path before, boot prints stamped into the soft earth. She yearned to come here each night, restlessly wondering if he will come to her in her dreams. This path always led to some small happiness, no matter how fleeting it was. Finally the little sewn cat pointed for a break in the tree line, shafts of light illuminating an open grove. Rising high in the center of the grass was a great throne of memories and bygone toys and trinkets. Atop it sat her angel. Sitting on that great pile it looked as though he was touching the stars. Tears welled in her eyes as she broke from the trees, the angel jumped to greet her. 
 
 He was nothing more than a black silhouette, but he wore a pressed blue suit with a bowtie. And on his back were great wings, they could stretch out to their full length and wrap around Ella, engulfing her. And just like that, they embraced, his wings covering her from head to toe. But it was not long before she felt the familiar tug on her sleeve. Her friend with the frayed stitching was sitting on an hourglass. The sand was almost out. Ella grabbed onto the angels wings, a last hopeful gesture to try and remain there. To stay, and to not have to go back to her pain of being alone. He held a hand on the back of her head, motioning for her to be calm. With Ella still holding fast to his wings, the dream started to fade, and the angel with it. Somewhere in the distance a clock was sounding. It was time for her to go. 

