A Time To Listen

Through a cracked window, the sun rose in a symphony of colors and the city woke with the bustle of a  thousand automobiles flowing through it’s veins. For the first time since what Guin called “Breaking” or the act of returning to the living, I had seen a clock. Such a small thing, yet complex and important, I mused on how the small insignificant things could hold within them innumerable cogs that run together to make fate tick stochastically onward. I got up and walked away from the window because I was beginning to feel faint trying to fight of it’s rays. Julian, the one that had welcomed us at the.... I guess I can’t really say door, regardless; he had put tea on a stove and was chatting with both Guin and Rachel as more Dreamers came through the walls. The newcomers made me uneasy at first, but then I realized all these Dreamers were people like Guin and would never harm me. As if he had heard my thoughts, Guin stood and walked toward me, “ It’s time”. The words flew through me with no real catch, yet intrigued me as to their meaning. Guin put up his hands and chanted four words in a language I didn’t understand, and everyone took a chair and sat in a circle around him and I.

The End

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