DreamoryA Story by EnigmaWhen memories melt into dreams.
The sky adopted many strange colors, a mixture of shades from purple to gray, no sun to be seen yet the weather is warm, cool and nice. A tall man lift his eyes and followed a thin spongy cloud passing the horizon, he smiled to himself and thought how beautiful life is and how nature manages to get the one see that beauty even at the deepest moments of sorrow. Under that sky the tall man felt free.
Freedom could mean anything and freedom is everything. The tall man looked around when he heard a faint voice calling his name, nobody knows his name and there wasn't supposed to be anybody and anything around him except white sand and purplish sea water. He made a whole turn looking for the source of the voice but in vain; nothing at all was there yet he heard the voice again, this time louder that he could almost see the figure of it's owner, he closed his eyes then opened them and the first thing he saw was the familiar gray ceiling of his room. It was just a dream. No that was not just a dream. That was a memory that's burned in the back of his mind and still vivid in his dreams even thought he can't recall when or where that memory was made. Memories; he is running out of them.
© 2014 EnigmaAuthor's Note
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Added on October 29, 2014 Last Updated on October 29, 2014 |