She drank my love potion, and loved.
You could see it in her face, brighter, more vivid. As though worlds of possibility had opened up. Possibilities she’d never known or, perhaps, simply perspective on what she’d known forever.
She ran to the open window, screaming affirmations into the street below, at people who stared up as though she were a lunatic.
But she didn’t care, too filled was she with joy at being alive.
She’d developed perfect, undying love for the universe, in all it’s wonders and complexity, and for everything within it.
Yet still, she did not love ME….
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Love Potion #8
Labels: 100 words, Drabble, Fantasy, Love, Love Potion, Short story
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