It entered not by foot, but by silence.
The door never opened.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz84CHgC31s
The fire dimmed, not from cold—but reverence.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEXK3wGBlu5
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.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ47pSHpoo1I
The wish made by something that had never had a name.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzk2V1HSMjL
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.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDBZAp56Zjp
A garden made of bone and hope.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiEMZn5nOkm
A city folded beneath a sea of teeth.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj4t2Kzv4tk
The first time someone looked at a sky and believed it meant something.
I brewed anyway.
Something small.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtGXd4lmiJZ
Woven from pauseflower and nightmilk.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKHYpCJSOFA
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.
ns216.73.216.25da2
