"That's beautiful," he murmured, looking at the idyllic island scene in front of him. Glistening white sands were surrounded by azure seas, with trees gently swaying in the breeze as the sun made her descent towards sunset.
"That's his nightmare," remarked the dark-eyed Queen of Dreams as she sashayed silently to peer at the scene.
"How could anyone consider this a nightmare?" he asked. "It seems too beautiful to be true."
"He's a workaholic albino with a tendency to burn very easily. He can't imagine not doing anything, much less spend time lounging at the beach and has had awful sunburns in the past. His girlfriend has been suggestion an island getaway and ever since he's been having the same nightmare."
"Someone has a sense of humour," he remarked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
"Life is too boring to conjure up the same demons. After a while, the thousands of vile monsters, headless ghouls and endless falling through chasms gets a bit old. One's got to keep oneself creative."
He wished she had a mouth, just so he could kiss away the sarcasm. The way she spoke in his head often made him wonder if she could hear his thoughts, but he had his own way of keeping his mind shielded and she had always been ambivalent to his presence. At times, he supposed he even broke up the humdrum of her daily routine.
"What nightmares would you give me?"
"Don't tempt me, King of Myths. Give me the chance and I will pull your darkest terrors from your soul and make you face them again and again. I would take no pleasure from it, but given the chance I would do it. We cannot fight our base natures. Just as you were born from the stories of the world, from the stories that people told around the fireplace, I was born from the recesses of the mind - for both pleasure and pain."
He smiled. She was honest like that. None of the Myths ever spoke like that to him and sometimes it was refreshing to hear the straight talk after wading through veiled words all the time.
"One man's nightmare is another man's dream."
so the king sank in her very vision, dissolving in ancient colors. his presence leaving echoes of hiss - whispering the very enigma that the Queen was secretly struggle to unravel. the fading noise falls on her wicked complexion repeatedly as she long for them to be a genuine sincere. it reads in her thoughts, "we travel through time for the quickest gasping. and we last."
ReplyDeletethey fade away and never to return, while she desires them like water.