The morning is clear to see yet it feels so heavy. It carries the weight of our journey for us. The bird song sounds like a lament for our inevitable fate. All the milestones filled up the very air that surrounds us. I’m tempted to throw this piece of metal in that murky pond and disappear into the valley. Shedding the trace on my back forever. It has been three weeks since Nero and I set off into the unknown trail. I wasn’t trying to escape the final battle. I know I should have stayed with my men and women in the field. But this journey couldn’t have been delayed any further. We had hoped to escape getting captured for a few days. At least until we found the answers to the questions that have plagued me since I was a child. But the answers never came, the old questions disappeared with each setting sun and only one new question was born. Who was the Proxy?
From the depths of my subconscious, these worlds and characters emerge. They bear resemblance to many interesting places, people and phenomenons that I’ve stumbled upon at some point or the other in my waking life.
The Dream Journal Series is going to a compilation of surreal dreams elaborated into short-stories.
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