The door to her world opens and I slip through as she sleeps dreaming of a tumultuous war between the possible and the impossible that brings about a chance for her to escape this narrow world that holds her prisoner. As she sleeps, I move carefully towards her bed, lean over and whisper in her ear of all that could be once this broken world lets her go and she leaves her chains behind to follow me through the door into other possibilities.
Even though this world that holds her prisoner has nothing for her but servitude and tedium, still she does not rise from her dream to float with me towards the waiting door. Still she feels the weight of her world holding her down, holding her back. Even though she dreams of the stranger who comes to her every night to make promises about strange far worlds that she can only dream about, she still refuses to take his hand and let him lead her away.
She knows there is something wrong, she knows that all she ever hears from him are stories, promises that will never come true and she knows too, that once he has led her through that doorway he will leave her, lost and alone, in some far world of which she knows nothing, while he goes off searching through all the open doors to the folded worlds to find another sleeping woman, just to whisper his promises in her ear.
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