The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

Picture It & Write, 27 January 2013: Dreaming

This week's photo over on Ermilia is definitely an interesting one:My offering is entitled "Dreaming:"

Anna lay snuggled in the deep down of her blanket; it was winter in Minneapolis and she was on a budget that mandated the heat register stay at 71 degrees. She was glad it was Friday night, she told herself, because she could spend a good part of the night and next morning in bed. Deep down, she longed for Danny and missed those former Friday nights; it was 10pm and instead of being curled up like a hibernating bear she would have had on her go-to-the-club outfit and would just be starting the evening. She would have been preparing to meet Danny--well, more like preparing to watch Danny, as he wound the club attendees into a frenzy with his masterful use of vinyl and compact discs. He was a popular DJ and had a few favorite downtown clubs where he worked on weekends and as one of his friends, Anna had the good fortune of a VIP pass and could get in whenever she wanted. Danny didn't know she adored him. She sunk deeper into the thick covers until only the top of her head was visible, had anyone been there to see it. Her breath created a warm cocoon and with each exhale she moved further into her dreams. Her dreams of Danny.She felt warmth engulf her, wrapping around her like strong arms. She smelled his scent, not just cologne but him, the smell of flesh, of hair, of cigarettes and Fosters (Australian For Beer) on breath. She felt his heart, beating in rhythm along her spine as she sunk deeper into his embrace. The heat from their two bodies was palpable, liquid air surrounding them. Anna felt the smile of his whiskers on the nape of her neck and thrilled at the sensation. She arched her back and returned the smile in darkness; turning in an effort to wrap her arms around him, to finally share her heart, her eyes were assaulted by light.The blanket shifted, letting in the light of Saturday morning. Danny, along with her joy, were gone.

  

Trifecta Week Sixty-Two: Phibes is Back

Write Now! Prompt for January 25, 2013: Miracle