Perhaps a Dream World

Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay in this dream world where she could finally catch her breath. Amongst the trees, she flew, her eyes taking in the strange, green hues around her. How wonderful to live so freely. Paradise. She was interrupted as her vision blurred. Surprised, she wiped her face; it had been so long since she had felt her tears. It only makes sense, she thought to herself. An eternity had she lived a partial life. Too many nights, she had slept in a prison. An existence ago, the darkness surrounded her. Smog engulfed the city, an overlapping grey as the buildings reflected the sky. She had woken morning after morning, her eyes opening to an endless cycle of bleakness. Each day she ran through the streets with a glimmer of hope; the slight possibility of something more was enough motivation. It couldn’t all be grey. There had to be something else. Years passed, but the streets never ended. The city was a labyrinth; the darkness perpetual. Her legs grew heavy as she lost faith with every step. How many years had she stumbled through the looming obstacles? How many mornings had she woken to a leaden sky? A run to a walk, a walk to a crawl, her body collapsed, a black curtain draws as she succumbed to fatigue.