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I had a dream recently that, when I woke up, I was like: Man, that was pretty damn cool. I want to get it down so I can develop it into something at some point (short story, novel, illustration, whathaveyou). So here it is! Enjoy!


My boyfriend and I are suddenly alone on a picturesque, grassy slope at dawn. We don’t know how we got there and there is nothing in sight other than rolling hills — no people, no roads, no buildings, no animals. It’s extremely serene, achingly beautiful but rather eerie. As the sky begins to lighten, he grows groggy while I am feeling more energized — to my alarm, he slips into a coma once the sun has risen. I spend the day keeping watch over him, not knowing if I should stay or leave to try to find some help. Luckily, as dusk begins to set in, he starts to stir and eventually wakes up. I ask him how he’s feeling, what he thinks is going on, where he thinks we are and what we should do. As we talk though, I can feel my energy slipping away and then, when the moon rises, I pass out.

We realize after a few days — wherever we are, it is causing him to slip into a coma during the day and does the same to me at night. So the only time we are lucid together is for a few hours at dawn and dusk.

We try to make as much progress as we can during that time, traveling as far as we can in search of something, anything. The landscape doesn’t change much and we never see any signs of people or animals. There’s nothing to eat but there doesn’t seem to be a need for it. There’s no wind, not much weather, nothing makes a sound. Even our own voices are dampened and soft, no matter how loudly we speak. The blankness and solitude of this place is feeling progressively oppressive.

Eventually, we come to the edge of a body of water where there is a lone dock stretching far out into the bay. The water is still; it doesn’t stir or have waves. During the day, as I watch over my boyfriend’s body, I also keep watch over the dock to see if anything or anyone approaches; he does the same at night when I am in my coma state. One day, finally, there comes a small boat. There was some kind of indistinct dilemma then that I can’t quite remember but I end up dragging my boyfriend’s dead-weight to the dock and we get into the boat. It drifts out into the bay and we float for several days, losing sight of land and any sense of direction we might have had. Eventually, the boat brings us to a colony on the water — floating houses stacked next to and atop of one another at rickety angles, made from pieces of this and that and connected to one another via rope bridges — protected within a bank of fog. Due to the fog, the light is murky at best and we cannot discern between day and night especially since we no longer slip into comas while here. The people are welcoming but guarded and there is an underlying something that we can’t put our finger on but feels distinctly sinister.

..and then I woke up.