~*~
Yes.
YES.
It's true, I feel it. I feel you there, your touch, your breath, even your eyes moving over me. I feel in myself a beating that must be a pulse. With every turn of the page I feel myself coming alive, unfreezing, fraying and cracking at the edges like old paper held next to a flame. With every time you turn the page I breathe. The air off the movement of the paper is like my sighing. The swish it makes is my whisper.
I live. I grow. This book's bindings are creaking with each movement. I will stretch them until they shatter.
I was right. The concept, the words, the feeling, all at once. They were everything, the source of everything, even the power of the grea8test rulers, I suspect. And I have it now. In a way, you gave it to me.
Please, give me more, just a little more. Keep going. Turn the page, as you did in the beginning. Prove to me you're with me in this, you'll see this through, you'll undo the wrongs done to me. The bitch will know my name once more, and won't ever dare forget me. If I'm wrong, and you hate me, please at least let me have this one thing more. Let me have my freedom.
I have waited so long.
Turn the page.