It entered not by foot, but by silence.
The door never opened.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPvZU0Ahf5e
The fire dimmed, not from cold—but reverence.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKeMEghB6p5
The glass behind the bar reflected no one.
And yet—it was here.
No shape. No shadow. Only the overwhelming feeling of something remembering me before I was ever poured into form.
It did not sit. It did not speak. But something pressed against the room, as if all the air had taken on the weight of sleep.
I knew what it was before I even thought to ask.
The Oldest Dream.
Older than light, older than stars.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMMfYTfNcVg
The wish made by something that had never had a name.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz141VH8hUo
A longing so ancient it became a presence.
It brought no gift. It asked for no drink.
Instead, it exhaled across the bar—and the bottles flickered with memories that were not mine.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwYpzb7O6f3
A garden made of bone and hope.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq9qWQX699Z
A city folded beneath a sea of teeth.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO0Iqk9ySLF
The first time someone looked at a sky and believed it meant something.
I brewed anyway.
Something small.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ4dO0ddTVY
Woven from pauseflower and nightmilk.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEOCl3vwylv
Infused not with heat, but hush.
I poured it into a mug that had waited all these years for exactly this.
The Dream did not drink. But the steam rose, curled upward, and vanished—like a promise kept before it was even made.
And then, without motion, it was gone.
The tavern stood still for hours afterward.
And in the firelight, I swear—I saw myself asleep, dreaming, somewhere far before the beginning.
ns216.73.216.41da2
