Getaway

There was reality in the surreal.
I woke up and I was half-blind. I sensed the tense outside the room, but I couldn't move. Three minutes passed and I was able to jump out of the bed and saw what was happening. They parted, every single thing is evidently flustered in a quick pace. The format smiled and prepared the baggage for the silent riot. I went to the computer and typed how I could not see anything; that I couldn't see her face and that the keyboards were jumbled in my blindness. My head was heavy. Everything was moving violently aware of the parting.

There was a dream in the dream.
The renaissance presented its green. I saw no back, but the hermit asked who I was most thankful of. I settled, turned my back and went pensive in reverie. I said something I couldn't hear, but the thought says Anna and another one. A girl smiled somewhere faraway, but I knew it. The flowers on the garden of green bloomed in rich luscious colors; some petals were withdrawn from its hold of life. The horse-drawn rig passed slowly. Everything was peaceful, doubtful, and passive.

The message was not sent. The green was gone. We were leaving, we are leaving.