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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1018951-Perhaps-a-Dream
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by MJK Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Mythology · #1018951
A short story told to me during a thunderstorm by a Raven
Perhaps, A Dream



I open my eyes. It is dark. I hear only silence. The birds outside my window are gone. They have taken flight, searching for the dawn that has been stolen.

Stolen.

A thief in the middle of the night.
I set out on a journey, to join the birds in their search. A private investigation, to catch the thief. Groping in the darkness, I wander, seeking him.

I do not know the path. I can not see my destination. Where could he be hiding?

If I stop now I will never find the light. How long has it been since I have seen even my own hands? I am tired. I want to stop, I want to quit, but I can not find shelter. I am blind. Time is running short. I must keep searching for the way out of this darkness. I must not stop.

The blackness overwhelms me at times. I close my eyes and listen for the sound of my own breath. I hear nothing.

Raindrops deafen my thoughts. I open my eyes. I can see them falling in the darkness, glimmering as they collide with the molecules in the air. A dark shimmer, which dampens my path, illuminates my way.

I must keep moving. I must flee this storm
Puddles swallow up my feet. As I run, I fall, drowning in the night.
Where is the light?
Where have I gone?


A thief, they say, came in the middle of the night and stole the light from the sky. I search, desperately, but I can not catch him. I can not see the light.

Everything is gone.

Perhaps, he stole the world out from under me while it was dark.

I do not know.

Perhaps, I lied.

The thief, perhaps, was me.
© Copyright 2005 MJK (mjkloeck at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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