I dreamt of a city.
It was beautiful. Surround by water, it was angular, low and flowing. Shapes and shadows in the sun that stretched out away and folded over the landscape. Beyond its squat expanse a thousand thousand windows glinted in the sun from gleaming tower blocks that reared up into the shimmering sky. It was unlike anything I could remember. I had to go to it.
The journey was long and hot. For some reason my legs seemed weaker than they should and I grew tired and breathless long before I reached the river at the edge of the city. I bent to cool my face in the water and saw a reflection I didn’t recognise. I felt no alarm at this, merely a detached curiosity as I ran my fingers through my hair and found myself expecting to find something without knowing what.
The city called to me. I stood, my reflection forgotten and crossed a nearby bridge. The city’s concrete spans and walkways slowly enveloped me like the fronds of a web and I knew I could not go back. I had to find this city’s heart, a heart that was calling me, drawing me in, pulling me deeper and deeper…
To be continued…
All the “Far From Home” posts can be read here.