Dreamy Connections: A Whole New World I Already Knew

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Writers Rift
A dream. Nothing more, nothing less.

Submitted: August 05, 2017

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Submitted: August 05, 2017



I come to a campus-like five story building. I want a better view of what is to my right, the land beyond the hillside town. I head inside and slide myself into an elevator to head for the top-most floor. There's someone who is already in the small moving room, one who I try to ignore. When the elevator slows to my destination, the stranger does not get out with me. I assume they don’t come out for the area is restricted.

The smell of a concrete and plaster fill the elevator as I step out. The hallways unpainted walls have a thin plastic veil over them; paint cans, unboxed items, and other miscellanies obscured by their plastic wrap litter the ground. Amongst the disorder, there are a few people moving about, their attire that of construction workers and carpentry men. One emerges from a room effortlessly wheeling a vending machine.

I try to act as though I am supposed to be there. Either the workers didn’t see me, or they were too busy to be bothered with an errant outsider. I wander down the hall, eyeing each door to spot my ticket to the roof. Looking in where the vending machine mover had come from, a huge hangar opens to the sky. Maroon beams webbed either wall adjacent to the huge open gate. In the center of the room, countless people bustle around a whirring machine. One of the operators of the strange machine spot me. Not wanting to explain myself, or be denied my rooftop view, I scramble my way past them and use their beams to climb to the roof.

Finally, having the view I so craved I take in the breathtaking scenery before me. A crisp breeze flows up from the city below. The city is a mixture of ancient and advanced: Gothic stone buildings and cathedrals mingle amongst glass and steel architecture. No one building stood to tall above its neighbors, a silent respect between them all. At the base of the city’s hill is a precipice. Below the rock face trees grow just high enough to look as though the city’s hill levels out into a grassy plane. The sea of green then expanded as far as anyone could see. Further yet, a mountain sized passenger plane with a forest growing upon it’s back slowly descends on an unseen airstrip. To the left of the plane is a misty domed city. A few of the capped buildings stood well above the rest, a clear vision of superiority among them. I had been to that city before, it looked very different from street level.

I remember myself in front of a building, most of the city being to my right and a gulch to my left. I was escaping something, I can’t quite remember what. The black city was unceasingly humid, the air heavy and almost tangible.

The other side of the gulch towered a grey-stoned cliff, climbing well over any of the cities buildings. The precipice of the wild side cried thin waterfalls, filling a river deep below. The only thing stopping one from falling off the edge of the city was a sturdy metal fence (the fence curving at the top looking over any who dare draw close to the border). Along the gallant railing was a stone road; running parallel with a public garden raised slightly above the path. The road was eternally slippery with moss, and the gardens consisting of orderly trees surrounded by a few flowers and jade grass.

The building looming over my back was a two story Victorian-fashioned building. A workshop and store stowed away in the bottom floor while the top floor held up living space as well as the door to the street behind. The shop coerced its guests to enter with  a checkered pattern of green, yellow, and red stained glass at the storefront.

A feeling of anxiety drives me back from my nostalgia. I’m Not sure what prompts me, but I need to get away from this place, this city. I regress to my original form, leap from the roof, and take flight.

I next find myself climbing the lower part of a mountain, a path of torn away trees leading to a gaping cave. My paws grip into the steep earth as I make my way to the mouth of the cave. Upon arriving, I ask if (forgotten) lives here. The pungent scent of brimstone greets me first, followed by its creator. A black dragon tiredly asks as to why I call for him. I tell him that we must stop (forgotten) from creating strife with the humans.

I then find myself recruiting yet another dragon at a shallow lake. In the center of the slatey water lies a lone island. Blue luminescent plants guard the tiny bushel of trees growing on it.

-end of dream


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