the incidents of the día before left my night short and restless, tossing, turning, not a wink of sleep blessed my soul and with every sleepless minuet made me más restless and annoyed, but then i looked at crystal....her beautiful sleeping form, he heavy breathing, her soft closed eyes hiding the dreams o nightmares enveloping her mind.
i looked back to the cieling still holding crystal with one arm. the shapes of the ceiling seemed to be forming, morphing as if mocking my very presence. i turn away from it all and close my eyes, remembering that the last día of summer was the día i just...
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