Dream

A Story by Archos

It was only a dream. And as all dreams, it had to end one day.

He knew he would have to wake up. That feeling was permantly pressing at him at the back of his mind, despite his effort to get rid of it. He didn’t accept it, but he couldn’t escape it. Not a second passed when he didn’t think about it. Not even in the brightest of moments.

They were walking, hand to hand, along an unmaintained road full of holes and at some places it was hard to know the original layer of road, which was a narrow net over a large cavity. At some places it resembled a cliff full of jagged rocks.

A dry, wind gnawing at him in sudden gusts lifted her hair time to time and revealed her round, but slim shoulders. She jumped from rock to rock with ease. She landed lightly and with elegance. He struggled after her, lifting his legs high in the air as he walked over the remnants of the road, too narrow to set his foot on the.

He didn’t let go. He was clasping her hand as strongly as he coul without causing her pain. It felt that if he let go for just one second, he would lose he forever. The strength with which her gentle white hand clasped his, suggested that she felt the same.

His legs were sore and beaten from constant tripping on the broken road, while she moved along it cheerfully with a smile on her face. He kept wishing they would stop at last. He felt he couldn’t walk much further. She felt he was slowing down and she granted him the stop when she saw the wish in his eyes. They stood, sealed in a rock solid embrace, but now that he was provided with relief at last, he felt they had to keep moving. He didn’t want to linger on that dreary place. With his eyes set on the turn to the soft, dusty road ahead, he broke the embrace and prompted her to move on, though he was being crushed with fatigue and pain.

They reached the place where the broken road swerved right, but there was a turn to a yellow road covered with dust, lined with a stripe of tall green grass on a small hill rising towards the vast golden field the road was cutting in two. She knew there was no way to drag him along the broken road when she saw how wistfully he regarded the turn to the field. Though she knew the dust would make her cough, spoil her pretty dress and rest in her maroon hair, she pulled him towards the dusty road.

“Come on!” she mused and tried to fill him with as much hope as she could. “Just few more steps!”

It was as if he entered an entirely new world. The fatigue disappeared, his legs ceased to hurt, the scratches on his feet stopped bleeding and feeling the soft earth beneath them, he felt he could walk a thousand miles further, cross the horizon and walk all the way to the stars covered by the veil of the turqoise sky.

Then he noticed that the hand which had been pulling him onwards turned into a load and he was the one pulling. He turned around and looked at her. The smile she forced herself into deceived him and he walked on.

The wind turned into a warm, lazy breeze which carresed his skin and caused the sea of wheat around to whisper contently and wave into the rhythm of the wind. But the weight he was pulling kept getting heavier.

The dusted itched her and got into her eyes with every gust of breeze that swirled it. The hot earth burned the soles of her feet and the constant rustling of the wheat was hurting her ears, driving her mad. She wanted to get away from the place. She began walking faster, even running. She ran in effort to escape, even despite the dust lifted as their feet stompted on the ground.

When he looked around, they were in the middle of a human settlement. Houses peeked from the ground far behind the first lines too close to the road. They were passing people in long black capes. He saw their faces, but he couldn’t concentrate on them and he could only guessed where their eyes were. Still they were staring at him. He knew it. He felt as if he were naked to their sight, their eyes could pierce right through him. Even the ones watching him from the windows of the houses. The anxiety was unbearable. They got closer to them. The closer they got, the more blurred their faces were. He felt he was surrounded with the face he couldn’t really see. They were everywhere. She turned at him. Her face was vivid, beautiful. For some reason, the faces around cheered her up. She was pleased with their interest. They both knew they couldn’t stay there, however. One of them couldn’t stand the place and so they had to move on.

They walked down through a dark, narrow, path. There was nothing but darkness around them. He felt he was pulling her.

“I am afraid,” she said uneasily.

“There’s nothing,” he encouraged her. “Nothing to be afraid of!”

They went on. Towards the light. The cave opened into a beautiful scenery. The endless see, merging with the sky at the horizon, lay at their feet. It sang to them with its soothing voice. They came to a cliff. There was a narrow ledge just outside the cave they were in. She pulled him towards the edge of the cliff. He resisted, but she urged him with a strong pull. He gave way.

“You are insane,” he said still somewhat uneasily as he watched their feet dangle in the air above the sea foaming below. He didn’t dare to gauge the height. Small bushes were growing on the cliff, stretching out, fastened to the bare stone in some mysterious way. She smiled at him. He couldn’t smile back. Not with the danger they had willingly entered. Then he remembered. He stared into her eyes. They were still vivid. Wide open, purple eyes. She blinked innocently. The look was melting him. He even checked whether he wasn’t sliding down the edge of the cliff when he felt how numb his whole body became. Yet, the knowledge didn’t let him enjoy the moment. “This isn’t real, is it?” he plucked a small pack of white flowers on a slender stem. She shook her head. “This either,” he said bitterly and threw a small rock down the cliff. Its fall was shorter then he would have expected.

“No,” she admitted. Her voice was kind and rather indifferend, if not cheerful. As if the threat of the inevitable didn’t concern her. “Nothing of this is,” she said looking around. He remained silent. He watched the endless sea, seeking courage he didn’t possess. Her gentle touch on his chin as she turned his head towards herself granted him the courage.

“Not even you?” It was a question he would regret. He had dropped a fragile pot of porcelain and he was waiting for it to hit the floor. There was no other consequence except for the pot being broken into pieces. At that short instant he felt as the rock he had dropped a while ago.

“No,” she smiled. How could she? It made the expected impact even stronger... But also pleasant. Deliberating. Not for long however.

“What is real?” he asked, desperately seeking a path of consolation.

“The experience,” she retorted as if she had been expecting the question. “The memories, the feelings. That all remains after you leave.”

“I will remember you,” he said coyly, uncertain of importance of his words.

“Yes,” she admitted. “But it won’t be me. It will be a memory of me.”

They sat, clasping one another’s hand as if their lives depended on it, and watched the sea foaming at their feet. The sea merged with the horizon and it felt as if they were inside a massive bubble of water. They knew the nature of a bubble was to pop at some point.

© 2015 Archos

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Featured Review

Patricia Williams

"He struggled after her, lifting his legs high in the air as he walked over the remnants of the road, too narrow to set his foot on the." the what?

"The endless see, merging with the sky at the horizon" *sea

A couple other errors of that nature. They won't be hard to fix, a careful re-reading should be fine.

I like the story. Your descriptions are beautiful. Some subtle editing and it will be perfect. Best of luck