Was it ever about the dream?

He sat next to her, a wound in his heart as deep as the cut in her stomach. She stared at the ceiling in what was disbelief towards the actions of the man she once loved. Never expecting it to end up this way. Despite it, she understood, always reading such things happening in the papers. But her? Now being in the same position.

-          

              -  I stopped dreaming at some point Maggie. He almost startled her with how his words were calm.

At that point it was only him she could have turned the look to. So she did, with hesitation.

-                           -    I would tell you those dreams, every time. And you would tell me yours. I felt how close we were. And then that went away ever so suddenly. I was scared.

 

-                  -    I didn’t have to go this way… I never wanted that. She responded while gasping for air.

-                  -   People are cruel Maggie, I can’t be the exception. Least we can do now is be honest.

 

He lied right next to her now, reminiscing the old times, times when his worries were irrelevant. He reminded himself that was still the case. There is little to no matter for whatever we do in our life. Time passes, life goes on for those that still have it. Only relevance to anything is towards our own life, our own beliefs. If a stranger were to look at this now, he would think of it nothing but another lunatic case and walk away slowly towards what he considers is important. Yet another task to solve his own problems. Because that’s what life has turned into for humans. One problem solving after another. And our paths cross with others way too often to not to end up in one of these situations.

-                 -     I do however remember the last dream I had. Do you wish to hear it?

-                 -     I do.

He turned his head towards her, and their eyes met, it seemed as if neither of them wanted to look away.

“I was walking alone, it was dark, I didn’t know the time or place I was in. Even so, being in an unknown place didn’t give me any feeling of discomfort like it usually does. Turning around a new corner only to see something completely new. It was a narrow street and I couldn’t tell how far it was taking me. Eventually I reached the end, the street expanded and there was a large crossing. I was forced to make a decision on where to go. Across the long crossing there was a bus station to its right. There stood three people waiting for a bus.

It was a red light indicating that I shouldn’t go, there wasn’t much else but to approach them, perhaps ask for direction. With no traffic on the road I was compelled to cross it with nothing stopping me. And so I did as the red light stared into my eyes.

I walked up to the station and all three of them gave me a look at the same time. Only to check the “new guy” out, I assumed. They kept staring for a while, which made me feel as if they were thinking something about me that I couldn’t recognize. Eventually they got used to me, but I didn’t have the need to ask where I was anymore. I just stood there waiting for the bus to take me wherever it was going.

I gazed upon the residential building being lit by the street light which was moving to the blowing wind. I could only notice the shapes of the shadows on it, as if the light was of no relevance to them. But it was, I knew, for us to see the shadows there has to be light. “

-         

             -  What were the people like, did they talk to you? She stopped him to ask.

-                        -     No, they did not.

“I first took a look at the young boy who was kicking a rock beneath his feet. He didn’t much mind what we thought of him, or that he was annoying in any way. It was the only thing he found fun to do. So he did it, as simple as that.

The second person was the middle aged man standing behind the boy, he was wearing a suit and held a briefcase in his right hand. He was discreet about it, but he kept watching the boy. Listening to the sound of the stone rubbing the concrete. He seemed annoying to his mind but showed no compulsion to stop the boy in what he was doing. As if he watched him in disbelief thinking “Why would he do that, it’s just annoying, childish”. He made a gesture on his face only for a chance that the lady would notice, or me, perhaps agree with him. So he would know he’s not alone in the way he thinks.

The old lady was wearing a skirt, with tight shoes on her feet. She sat on the bench left of the man. Above the heel, and inside the shoe there was a piece of paper doing its job by preventing the shoe from further harm her blister. She wore them a lot, I could tell. It didn’t much matter that they were painful, as long as they looked good with whatever else she was wearing. Maybe someone of here older friends would complement the lonely old lady, or perhaps just say nothing bad about her. As if that was enough to get her through her day. She felt nothing about the boy, she looked at him now and then, maybe a small smile on her face while she thought of an old memory.

I took a look at each one of those people, I understood them all. What they were doing, why there were doing it. I could have imagined myself in the same positions. I didn’t mind the boy playing, I acknowledged the face gesture from the man. And I could relate to the old lady, and the sacrifice she was making.

Couldn’t they all do that? Or am I failing to understand myself.

As soon as the bus came, the light turned from red to green.”

-                  -        Did you get on the bus with them? She pressed her wound even harder.

 

-                  -        I don’t know, the dream ended there. Wouldn’t you say all of them do that, expecting us to finish them once we wake up? But how are we supposed to do that, if we wake up in the reality where we are bound to the laws, where we once again have problems to solve. Do we truly have what it takes to finish them the way they should have been?

He continued to stare at her, she was empty now, only whole in his mind where he could have placed his memories in her body, and complete her as a person he thought she was. She was perfect.

Reviews

[Kesha]

I really enjoyed this here. I hope this is the one you were speaking of? I only found one thing I didn't like.

" What were the people like, did they talk to you? She stopped him to ask.

- No, they did not."

I feel like here he could've said more or glanced away from her to look out the window or something? I felt it was too abrupt the way he continued on with the dream as though she hadn't said anything. Idk just something I feel.
Either way I hope you finish it, I really want to know more about these two, how she got the wound? Why he's broken hearted? What came after this part? What became of them? Did she bleed to death? Did he move on and fall in love with someone else? But maybe he didn't love the new girl as deeply as he loved this one? Either way it made me think. Absolutely love it, wish I would have thought of something like this!