She walked into the room, her skirt swishing with every step she took. Her shadow fell on me and her scent enveloped me. I breathed in, wishing I could take all of her into me; her soft skin, those pink bow shaped lips, those mounds that hung from her chest like papaya.
"young man are you not going to wake up today?" she asked.
I opened my eyes and stared at her. My vision of her did no justice. I stared at the burns on her face and her single eye and smiled;
"hey twinnie, come give your brother a hug." I replied.
She laughed, her voice tingling like tiny bells, like little birds welcoming the morning.
She joined me on the bed and gave me a soft kiss on my lips. Her scarred face rubbed mine but I didn't mind. I could feel her soft breasts squeezed between us like small pillows.
"young man, are you not going to the funeral? " she said again.
I opened my eyes again and saw that it was my mother. It is true, she died because she had gone on a date. I woke up.