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  The wind shook the window loudly, the wooden shutters were threatening to burst open at any second. The trees screamed and cracked in the several large gusts, some branches pushing against the small, crooked house. Thunder boomed loudly as though it were directly above the house and lightning had the room glowing in a bright split-second flash of light.
   Noah laid in his bed sound asleep, the loud noises only pushing into his dreams, making them haunting and frightening. As the storm became more and more severe his dreams were quick behind it to match. He woke with a start, his eyes glued to the wall beside his bed where the shadows from the trees seemed to hack at the shadow from his head. He turned to look at the window, the scraping noise almost unbearable. The window burst open, throwing a cold gust of wind and rain onto his naked skin. He jumped out of bed and slammed them shut, pushing his dresser in front of them to keep them closed.
   He looked around his room, the storm making the small space and low ceiling seem like a prison. He put on his robe and crouched down a narrow hallway to long, crooked and uneven stairs. He held his hand above his head, touching the ceiling as he went.
   The only two rooms downstairs were the sitting room and the kitchen. They were both very small and seemed to be made from scratch by Noah himself. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking to his right at the sitting room and to his left at the kitchen. It seemed like he was looking at a picture. A picture with no flaws, only what he had wanted. A house from the middle of a fairytale, with magical dust rising from the rugs and friendly eyes staring at you from every corner. In the dark the rooms seemed to hold time in their own hands, not letting it go until Noah himself gave them permission to let the rest of the world live their lively and expressive lives.
   He walked to the kitchen and put a pot of tea on the small stove, then walked over to the table and sat down. The night was alive. It danced and squirmed to the music of thunder and the light of lightning. The thunder shook the house every time it rumbled, leaving his small cottage at a vulnerable state. 
   What caused Noah to look out the window and directly at the single tree at the top of the smooth hill in the middle of the millions of trees was forever a mystery. But as he did, he saw what looked like several small lights, floating around the tree like an orb, but their motions were friendly. Almost like they were asking for him, telling him to start his life's journey with them. He stared at them, their lights almost a breathtaking glow. 

The tea kettle continued to screech, but no one was there to retrieve it from the stove. The only sign of human life in site was the robe that sat on the floor of the bedroom at the top of the stairs, still warm as if someone had just taken it off. Though at the top of a hill, where lights seemed to fly around him like mosquitoes trying to get a taste of his blood, Noah knew he was never to return. So with that, his body floated into the space of no time, no reality...Only imagination and the magic of the worlds we don't know exist, but carry under each and every one of our noses.


The End

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