A man who regularly escapes reality via his dreams slowly realizes how lonely he actually is.
He was a dreamer. He always had been, from when he had been just a child. It was all he ever did, mostly. And he was good at it, very good at it. Sometimes, it seemed that it was the only thing he was good at. He dreamed of many things, war, love, horror, sorrow. All of these things came to him as naturally as breathing. At first, he had been scared of the dreams, not wanting to sleep in fear of being trapped in them. But now, he welcomed the dreams and longed for them after a long day at work, seeing them as a sort of escape from the daily humdrum from reality.
And for a while, it had just been him in the dreams of his mind. Yes other people and the odd friend would appear from time to time, but in the majority of cases, his dreams had only included himself. He would walk under marmalade skies and look at the sky above, likening the imaginary stars to floating diamonds high above. It was the only place, where he could find peace and harmony, there alone in his land of dreams.
But after a while, he started to notice that his dreams began to change.