Pull the Horizon

I see a human, sometimes a young boy, sometimes a woman, other times a middle-aged man, and sometimes myself, many times a teenager or young child, but in this dream, no matter the variants- they are all encountering a similar journey.

A horizon is stretched in front of them, I will tell you this story first and perhaps only from one of the little boys’ perspectives, since it seems to be the clearest on my mind at this moment. He sees blank city walls, stretched for miles, buildings that tower over him menacingly, faceless, heartless beings milling about before him, not only do they lack faces, but they have no ears and wail as he might, they do not hear his cries. The young boy begins to pace, he is not angry, nor is he sad, but perhaps he is both, perhaps he is just aching on the inside because he is lonely.

Over time, the young boy adapts to this world, his bruises from being run into by the faceless lessen, as he is learning to weave in between them. Just as he is learning to navigate the great wall of buildings and beings, the beings seem to have faces, still no ears, but they have faces. In high hopes, the boy begins to try to be recognized by the faces. As he approaches each face, they look at him with disgust, pity and anger, some of them kick him away and others pretend not to have noticed the little boy. After encountering a rather hostile group, he scampers away, hoping for escape somehow, somewhere. The faces’ mouths shout awful things at him and he wishes their eyes and mouths would go away, so they would not see him or speak to him.

The dark city loomed well overhead, like a hungry monster waiting until his was down, so that it could feed on his dying remains. The boy heard a soft whisper and turned. When he turned to look where the whisper had come, he saw nothing. Nonetheless, a surge of adrenaline rippled through him, something was different. He reached into the sky and brought his fingers together to form a fist, a damp foam licked at his fingers and he drew back his hand. The whisper melted in his ear as he reached out again and grasped firmly. The horizon rippled slightly in his hand as he pulled it away. Light shone clear through the gap as he tore it away. A laugh rippled through his throat as he pulled down the horizon, the whisper became clearer and louder as the city folded in on itself. A rushing wave poured through the gap and engulfed the boy in bright red liquid, his laugh broke through the water, pure joy rippled through his veins, the whisper was as clear and kind as ever.

“I love you, I am with you always, I will never leave you, I will never change. Now, live.”

The little boy surfaced giggling, in his own bed deep in the attic, the memory of his baptism flooded through his mind like a gentle river. The dreams were no more or less real than what he woke up to every day, but after the previous nightmares of his parents’ deaths and the darkness, they were no less than beautiful gifts to him. He swung his feet to the side of the bed and pulled on his worn down sandals. Who knows? Perhaps today he could show someone else this light, the old woman who tended the inn waved at him as he rushed out the door with a smile.



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