The Last Dream

Chunks of memory, go missing. Snippets of time, are unrecorded or reordered, without consent.

I had a dream so vague I can hardly recall its plot. But there was a boy and I think I liked him, because I so desperately wanted to impress him, except he was just a buoy.

It was dark out and we kept walking down long narrow corridors lit brightly overhead. The walls were of this rough cream brick, seamlessly cemented together and I slid my hands along them, feeling the bumps. He asked me if I was happy, I said "I'm never happy."

I think he thought I was deep then.

four-way