Miscellaneous Dreams III

Cropped header image by Sharnikarnikhil88.

Last night I dreamt I was with an old friend; the same one from Song of Storms, if I remember correctly.

I only remember fragments; I remember evenings of several days in which I walked home with him. The route itself had been fabricated within the dream; the most memorable piece of this route, or at least one route, was a sudden shift from an urban pathway to a glade in the middle of a shallow, loosely defined forest, a glade we’d known for our given lifetimes. The sky was a gradient ranging from orange to purple, and the stars started to show, and all we could hear was the ankle-height grass blowing in the wind. Continue reading



We were crossing the road on the way to the supermarket when it happened. That’s it. No “uneventful” days with the constant foreboding feeling something was going to happen, no warning signs that were quickly dismissed, nothing.

I asked my dad if we had any bread back at home.

No response. I asked mum.

No response. Callum.

Nothing, but if something was going on, he’d probably be in on it. What had I done in the last minute that would make them stop talking to me? They were talking to me normally a minute ago and I doubt they’d pull anything this cruel on me. Well, probably not. Continue reading