In my dream, there are two kinds of people. People who breathe life into things, and people who drain it out.
I was standing on the edge of a skyscraper. I was going to do it. But someone stopped me. They gave me a picture and said: “If you don’t intervene, this person will die. It’s your job to rescue them.” And so the chain went on.
The place looked like a prison, but everyone was happy. We all wore white and played games in the wire-enclosed courtyard. I saw the girl there who I’d saved, and the one that had rescued me. Where we walked flowers bloomed into life. Animals brought their dying young to us to be revived.
One day, a newcomer came. He was handsome until he knew you’d noticed him. The garden shrank and withered were he walked. I went with him anyway.
He wanted to find out how we knew who to save. He thought it was in our dreams. He put me to sleep for six months, and when I woke up the garden was barren
and the prison was silent and empty.
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