Pieces of fiction

Dream chronicles – first of many


Suddenly, I found myself running under roaring grey clouds threatening to explode over my head.

No umbrella, no sheltered sidewalks and closed coffee shops. I was only shielded by the thin jacket on my back and black ankle boots.

I remember increasing my walking pace gradually because I was late for something. Late for meeting someone, but I didn’t have the slightest clue who awaited me.

Slipping on the wet street seemed inevitable and my full focus was directed at taking quick yet calculated steps.

My vision wasn’t helping, it seemed somewhat foggy as if I had forgotten to wear my contact lenses but I was sure that wasn’t the case.

Despite not knowing where I was headed to, when I saw the place I was meant to reach, I knew right away this is it.

Old, wooden walls and floors, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

The door creaked louder than the thunderstorm outside.

It hadn’t rained yet and I was grateful I reached my destination in time. The café was empty and he sat on the table furthest away from the glass front.

He wore a hooded cotton jacket and his light hair was messy. I sat down on the chair facing him without saying hello.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“Why?” I interrogated.

His cold face broke into a slight smirk with one side of his thin lips curling upwards as he dropped his eyes towards the table allowing me to spot a hidden tattoo.

“You still answer questions with questions,” he said calmly yet irritably.

“I do?” I wasn’t aware I did it again till after I had spoken.

We sat in silence briefly looking at each other and then observing our surroundings awkwardly.

At one point, we both fixated our eyes on each other for what seemed like a lifetime. His eyes pierced through mine to the point that I could see my own reflection very clearly in his.

They were a lighter shade of a dark color. His eyes and soul alike.

Minutes or years later, my sense of time was very elusive, I reached out for his hand.

He showed no interest in making physical contact but something twinkled in his eyes and it made me feel like that wasn’t such a bad idea.

It was cold and the lines I traced on his palm left a silver thread behind them.

We were in that café for what seemed like an eternity and we both had nowhere else to be. It seemed like we had reached our destiny right then and there.

I woke up with a sense of strangeness to be back in the real world. An aura of absurdity floated around me all day.

From this day on, I know that I will have a subconscious mission of walking into that café every time I fall asleep.

Dreams are truly a thing of magic…

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