For the last three days, I was waking up from the same dream with a racing heart. I was dropping into my futuroscope while making observations and was getting stuck amidst the waves of time, once coming into existence and then out of it. Whenever someone tries to help me, I disappeared all of a sudden, and I cannot get rid of that doom. Then, an unknown person hugs me tight, and we fall in the existence-nonexistence adventure together. This cycle gets so frequent that it synchronizes with my heartbeats, and I wake up...
Whenever I woke up, I sat down with the special notebook I had committed for writing my book. Just looking at it with long, empty gazes, I used to fell asleep. I thought about whom to tell my dream, but I didn't feel like opening myself to anyone. After the school, I reckoned that I could talk to that teacher who had talked about the owner of two times. She listened to me, and said "wish the good of it from the Lord". That was it. On one side, I felt relieved, and on the other side I was distraught as a child whose walnut turns out to be empty upon breaking. All that she could say was that much, really? Even I could say that: "wish the good of it from the Lord". Nothing more, nothing beyond that?
The bad thing was that the dream that had assailed me for three days in a row disappeared after that day. With the dream gone, so did my aspiration for the book and other stuff... History classes became a matter of my memory rather than my dreams. Putting away my futuroscope, I went on with enjoying my youth as my other schoolmates. It turned out that the book that I had seen with my futuroscope had really disappeared. And not with my death or something. On the contrary, it was because my interests had changed and the thought of writing a book had never existed in the first place, and was not to flourish any time soon. After all, what would humanity lose, if one more book was not added to a compilation of millions of books that were in existence?
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