The Meaning of Hypnotism

A Story by adakaia

Wandering through the night muddled, and lost. The is a still point in time. Nothing changes much. The dunes move around independent of us travelers. Deep in the well, stars are reflected. In the bazar near the dunes, people trade stories and crafts. A soothsayer sits in a booth awaiting your presence. You sit back and listen to the symbols and dreams of the past, and future. You leave more confused than ever. Shifting winds of solace, and endless desert. Camels saunter by. Familiar and yet all too peculiar. The moonlit night evaporates and you are sitting lost in thought, in a billboard filled flashy city in the future. Your face appears on the billboards, welcoming your arrival. You feel new, though something about this place seems timeless. It should be crowded at this time of day, but it is empty. Trash littered everywhere. In piles. You are in a reed room. Accented with red. Shadows flit by. Like a nightmare. But they don’t scare you. For you mastered fear a long time ago, or so you think to yourself. Ocean waves crash on the shore. A child is collecting sand dollars, and you try and ask him to stop but he refuses. They are alive, you say. He appears not to speak the same language and eventually you lose interest and walk away to more undiscovered worlds