They say that when we dream, it’s caused by slow brain waves creating narratives that are a mixture of the days events and our imaginations. That these fancy imagines, designed for mental recovery, are of our own creation. But if that is true, somebody tell me why every time my head falls to it’s pillow and my eyes flutter shut, I see it. And why every time I wake up, my mind is full of memories of something that never was.
I see an old, run-down, wooden shelter, held together by a few nails and planks of wood, glowing in golden afternoon light. I see long, silky, grass and soaring mountains off in the distance. I am confused, always confused, for this is a place I know not, I have never set foot on the ground here.
But what I really need to know is who they are, and who they are to me. I hear their voice over the sounds of the wind on the trees and the scurrying on small creatures. It comes smooth, and softly, but seemingly broken, ever so slightly. “You promised. You broke your promise. You promised me” they repeat over and over, in an almost chant like state.
Then they appear in front on me, walking towards me while I am frozen in place. Their hair is a honey brown and they have bright, startling, gray eyes. They are dressed in a simple white tee, and light jeans, rolled up at the ankles.
Their feet are bare, covered in a light, dusty, layer of dirt. They stop in front of me, maybe three feet or so away, and look up to meet my gaze.
“You Promised”
I see an old, run-down, wooden shelter, held together by a few nails and planks of wood, glowing in golden afternoon light. I see long, silky, grass and soaring mountains off in the distance. I am confused, always confused, for this is a place I know not, I have never set foot on the ground here.
But what I really need to know is who they are, and who they are to me. I hear their voice over the sounds of the wind on the trees and the scurrying on small creatures. It comes smooth, and softly, but seemingly broken, ever so slightly. “You promised. You broke your promise. You promised me” they repeat over and over, in an almost chant like state.
Then they appear in front on me, walking towards me while I am frozen in place. Their hair is a honey brown and they have bright, startling, gray eyes. They are dressed in a simple white tee, and light jeans, rolled up at the ankles.
Their feet are bare, covered in a light, dusty, layer of dirt. They stop in front of me, maybe three feet or so away, and look up to meet my gaze.
“You Promised”
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