Cutting Reality

 shadows
Dreams never liked to be followed. Probably they felt of being restrained if someone followed ’em all the time, scrutinized them, stalked them or sneaked from behind them. It wasn’t a decent act. It was a crime against their own existence, a murder to their reality once reached. They really hated it and I knew it; but since when ‘hate’ stopped anyone from committing a misdeed? Their hate wasn’t sufficient to stop me from trying, that I knew for certain.
Italy, many years back.
Dreams were supposed to stride down the streets around 5:00 in the morning, which they did. But I was already there at 4:00, waiting for them to pass by so I can catch up with what I’ve missed since Carthage. I was hiding inside an abandoned shack and peeking through its timber door, taking cover not from them, but from the law officers.
If you’re walking down the streets before dawn wearing eerie clothes, you’re a criminal or a criminal to be.
Fists and kicks fall out on you for walking if you’re short on credentials or what others might call it “The Right Documents”, and chances are you’ll be locked up for years. A beating lesson which I’ve came across every now and then. In other countries, where I’d also followed them, I was able to pay off the lawmen with food; now they demand some colored stones.
In the current city where I’m concealed, I was able to detect the eerie smell of rotten food and colorful types of oil running through the alleys. Painting oil. It wasn’t weird, but it was a new surreal thing to learn like the lights you get to see when you’re following them at the Poles of this eggy sphere that others call Earth.
I pulled out of the hut quietly few seconds after they had went past me, and I followed them like a furtive assassin, a brave mice, following some murky shadows. The smell got stronger when I got near the walls, and I had to keep my back against the wall due to the harsh wind blowing at the middle of the road, I needed to shield myself somehow.
A couple of minutes passed and seemed like a decade, then starvation battered my stomach which made the next minutes feel like a century. So I started losing attention of the steps I’m making. The pattern of the road was really mysterious in some ways, if you’d pay good attention it’d make you think of uncanny things like old memories of loved ones, or perhaps some imaginary powers you’ve got that no one can perceive, not even you…
“HEY YOU”
I freaked out, they must have heard me stepping loudly on the cobblestones when I lost focus.
I couldn’t make out how many shadows there are. At first they were three or four, now the more I moved closer, just to talk, the more of them emerged.
“What do you want?
What are you looking for?” they asked together.
I didn’t know what to tell them, beside the truth, that I’m just following them which is the only thing that I knew I want.
“Go away” one of them screamed… or yelled; I didn’t really pay much of attention, I was trying to come up with a certain kind of plan, plan A as a start.
And then, a foolish idea came to my head, but no matter how foolish, I’ve learned across my life that with the right mind, it could turn into enlightenment, a wise idea.
Their shadows shifted rapidly when I stepped closer ready to answer, they seemed vigilant, thus I continued walking with relaxed and equable movements. The sun was rising up, the lights were getting stronger over my left cheek, I could hear the seagulls in the skies cutting through the air. A very secondary thought came to my mind: I must be standing in a city near the sea, I took a deep breath and I was able to feel the salty water dripping through my nose.
“If you tell me where you’re heading, I would stop following you”, I spoke it proudly with a chin up and a big chest, then I noticed there’s a small grin over my face. Made me comfortable, strong, wise, voguish…and while all these terms were looping through my mind erratically, someone must have forgotten a mirror somewhere or was it just a normal piece of glass? I never knew. But the light reflected from the glass and blinded me like glowing knives thrust into my eyes for a moment then WUFFF, there’s no one, nothing but cobblestones in front of me, and at the end of the street I saw them diving into what’s left from the night’s darkness.
It’s not that I had the choice with them, you couldn’t bargain with them, make deals nor compromises. They are free. I’m not.
So I decided to follow them again, and I plunged after the Dreams into the shadows.

 

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