A World Within Words

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He was leaning his back on a tree, a big and old one, the only tree on this vast plain. Then, he opened his eyes.

“How’s life lately, old pal?” He demanded.

Stories around the world have their own version of dream-controller being. Hypnos and Morpheus, Sandman, you name it. Me? I am not lucky enough to have bizarre or beautiful, god-nature creatures. This dream-controller being of mine is none other than the younger version of me. Small, weak, bullying-magnet straight hair 14 years old boy who barely can stand a single punch on his face.

Do you know about lucid dreams? Those dreams where you know you are dreaming and can control it? Well, whenever this boy appears, I know it is a dream, I am aware of the universe, I am aware I am dreaming. It is the same, minus I can’t control it. He does.

That’s why since the first time we meet, years ago, I decided to call him Sandshit.

“Nothing to say, Sandshit.” I looked at him, then swallowed hard. “Yeah. Like always.”

He laughed. Like the way I used to laugh. Then, he stopped. Silence came, then breeze. The sound of wind in the trees and rustling of leaves without any words spoken.

“Do you still have dreams, Assguard?” He said, breaking the silence. He looked up at me with an idiot grin.

He gave me that name after three or four dreams since I called him Sandshit, said it is kinda cool because Assguard rhyme with Asgard, one of the nine worlds and home to the Aesir tribe from Norse mythology.

I still unable to spot the “kinda cool” part for years.

“Dreams? Playing stupid, eh, Sandshit? Where do you think I am now?”

“No, Assguard, no. The other dreams,” He said “as dreams in hopes, Something that you want to achieve.”

“I dont,” I muttered, putting my hands on my pocket. “I don’t have it. Not anymore. I’ve achieved what I wanted back then, and now what? You know me, Sandshit. Why bother to ask?”

“Ya, ya… So it is kinda lonely now, eh?” He took another step closer. “Wanna ask me what you should dream next?”

“If I don’t know what to dream, then same goes for you. You are me, after all.”

“Ask your friends then, Assguard. Ours.” He smiled, and then everything goes white.

And then, here I am.

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