A Dream? by August | World Anvil

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Fri 6th Aug 2021 05:41

A Dream?

by August

Quickwater, day of the election.
 
All of this is familiar. A memory. But why?
 
Large crowds of people move through the markets. Celebrations are being had as town criers are drowned out by the sounds of laughter and life. Food and drink is being passed around, and the smell of freshly baked bread and citrusy tarts is floating on the breeze. The seven of us are walking through the market towards the Brew’s house, trepidatious but curious as to what -
 
That face.
 
With barely a thought I’m moving. I chase after it through the crowds, trying to push through them as best I can without causing a disruption. I couldn’t have seen it, could I? Did I miss it at the stall out of excitement with the group? They must be calling for me, surely, but nothing else matters right now.
 
I’m at the stall it was at, but it’s gone… Where?
 
There, to the left.
 
Running. Elbows. An increasing heart-rate. I’m certain now that I saw it, but that makes it worse.
 
Why?
 
Panic. Heavy breaths. I need to get there. Why now? Why today, of all days, when there’s so many people that I can’t get to that face for the crowd.
 
I’m falling further behind. It’s headed down the road, passing by an alley.
 
I scream for it to stop. Just stop and wait.
 
Please.
 
 
 
It can’t be that far from dawn when I awake against the tree. What the hell was that dream? It’s been days since the election, why would I see that now? Is it because I went with them? Could I have missed something?
 
Ah well. The nightmare has passed, and the world is silent. Now is the time to rest. Tomorrow is a new day.
 
One step closer.