{"id":365,"date":"2010-08-04T06:49:33","date_gmt":"2010-08-04T11:49:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php"},"modified":"2014-03-24T01:13:01","modified_gmt":"2014-03-24T08:13:01","slug":"dreams-iii","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/writing\/writing-2004\/dreams-iii","title":{"rendered":"Dreams (III)"},"content":{"rendered":"<h5><em>By Martin Falatic<br \/>\nWritten 2004-06-19<br \/>\nRevised 2004-06-19<\/em><\/h5>\n<div class=\"hr\">\n<hr \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>It was the later hours of a genteel party in an old country manor. The place was done in the old world style, with dark wood trimmings and dim sconces lighting the rooms and hallways. I entered a side room to gather my coat. As I closed the door behind me I turned and saw her sitting in the shadows, beside a small side table and lamp. Her reverie disturbed, she looked at me intently, her pupils wide in the half-light, a strand of sandy brown hair framing her face. My heart stopped and my stomach fluttered&#8230; time itself seemed to step slowly so as not to break the moment. I felt that I knew her but from where? I searched my memory in vain: It was as though I was seeing the embodiment of a dream, one which left only a dim aching void upon awakening. We were transfixed as this instant of mutual recognition passed between us. I looked for a ring, saw one that might or might not mean her betrothal to another and despite myself I ignored it. I looked for a sign, anything to rein in the impulse that took hold, anything to awaken me before I made an utter fool of myself. Nonetheless, without a word spoken, I leaned down and towards her. She tilted her head up and slowly closed her eyes as our lips met. It was a tender, almost delicate kiss, but to my very core it was like a cool sip of water on a warm summer day.<\/p>\n<p>I recovered myself, suddenly feeling naked and vulnerable. I spoke, &#8220;I&#8217;m&#8230; I&#8217;m sorry, I don&#8217;t know what came over me! Please, I hope I haven&#8217;t offended&#8211;&#8221; &#8220;You have nothing to be sorry about.&#8221; she said, her eyes still locked to my own. I leaned in again and we kissed with more passion&#8230; the kisses of long lost lovers reunited, of kindred spirits revealed.<\/p>\n<div class=\"hr\">\n<hr \/>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>By Martin Falatic Written 2004-06-19 Revised 2004-06-19 It was the later hours of a genteel party in an old country manor. The place was done in the old world style, with dark wood trimmings and dim sconces lighting the rooms and hallways. I entered a side room to gather my coat. As I closed the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":290,"menu_order":4,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"class_list":["post-365","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/365","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=365"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/365\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/290"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=365"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}