![]() ~īut my outcries were only heard by speechless statues of pioneers and by a bird on a tree, which immediately flapped her wings and took off, having cried something in its own bird language, as if laughing at the idiot who dared to interrupt its after-dinner nap.Īt last I was breathless with my weeping, and just laid quietly, sobbing from time to time.Īfter a while, I managed to pull myself together. ~ But I'm not likely to find an answer in the fields or the woods, and this wretched bucket of screws is the only kind of link that I have with the real world. ~ And while I still have the choice, I should rather pick the second option! ~ I must have reached the point of no return, after which you should either lose your mind completely or finally try to understand what is going on. In fact, that means nothing at all! Even hell can have power lines?īaking and roasting the sinners is too old-fashioned. I caught my breath and looked at the bus, which was now barely visible. The forest was quite far away, but the trees looked as if they had closed their even ranks and were now just waiting for an order to advance into the fields and plains. The grass is just too lush the bushes are not like what bushes should be, they are so thick that you can't see anything through them, like treetops, honestly.Īnd the trees themselves. ~Įverything looks like it was taken from the paintings of Russian landscape artists of the XIX century. ~ Of course, the summer is usually like that: green and hot but here everything is not just like in real life. Yes, exactly! I should ask her about the owl, for example.Īnd it is not that it was winter yesterday and it is complete summer now. I know it for sure – I've done it hundreds of times.īut if you cannot die, is there a point in living? In a dream, there are the small things that catch the most of your attention: unnatural colour of grass, impossible curves of straight lines or your own distorted reflection – while the real danger, which could put an end to everything right here and now, seems a trifle. Still, what do letters, gates and stars have to do with this place?īecause if every night I'm having this dream, which will be forgotten soon anyway, I've got to look for answers here and now!Īnd there, if you look carefully, you can see the Magellanic Clouds.Īs if I ended up in the Southern Hemisphere! Or better, why dot over i was called a tittle, but dot over j was called a superscript dot? I rather ask about the gates! Yes, the gates! Maybe I should ask her something? The girl. I understand that, but what of it? What would change my understanding?īecause here it's just like on the other side of the cracking screen of an old TV, which struggles to the fight against static noise and strives to show it's audience everything without missing a single detail.īut the picture is getting blurry. I could but to do that, I would need to pick myself up, make a step, move my hand.īut this is a dream. Since everything that surrounds me here is real!Īs real as things in my own flat: I could open the gates, hear the hinges creak, brush the crumbling rust away with my hand, inhale the fresh cool air and shiver from the cold. You don't have to know where or why to realize: something is really happening. ![]() Of course, if it all would have happened in real life, I would have certainly be scared.īut this is just a dream.
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