There is a city but the sun never shines and the roads are always empty. The few times there is someone else they are just for a few moments but the person never appears or is remembered. The few 'people' that live in the city are constantly harassed by the promise of the sun but it never shows. In the gloomy times, I walk the streets and think about life and its meanings, maybe even contemplate what could help my fears and memories. Only to see these 'people' living in fear and I try to get them to reveal themselves but they stay forever hidden in the buildings they hide in. The sun once rose years ago, but the lack of the sun has made all life go blind and lifeless. Just cracks in the roads and buildings show the age of this time. With the few cracks that shine, the few plants grow. Many gather around it, but never leave to their jobs or talk to me. I am forever stuck with the ones that have given up of ever seeing day and live day by day in fear and hoping for others to not see them different. My house which resides in the heart of the city has the one file which I need to restore life but that file seems always farther away in the dark halls which the nightmares haunt. That file was a dream, and that one dream can remind me of what the time was before everything went to hell, and while I attempt daily to stave off the nightmares, the only thing that surrounds me in the world is the silence after death. The cold gusts of the silence sweep the streets, slowly decaying the world into despair and chaos. Occasionally I find the few 'people' who keep me from forever giving up on ever getting that 'file' which I have forgotten many years ago. Occasionally the 'people' take form from old conversations with the outside world and life is given back with slow, shallow breaths. When I remember that dream, I will remember what my friends told me from one old day where everything became suddenly clear. The clearness that although life is plentiful, you must hold to what you hold dear



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