Untitled post about imagination and love

It is 6 am. She is having her last cigarette in the shadows of the dark living room that she calls her own. No inspiration coming her way and insomnia disturbing her mind, she is contemplating her life so far..and thinking about him. She hears his voice even though she does not know the way it sounds, she feels his hands on her face, strong and manly, just as she imagined them to be. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said in a low, sleepy voice. She hears him whispering secrets to her ear, smiles at his jokes and shudders when he touches her lips with his. Excited because of his long awaited presence in the room, she turns another dusty page…