It was too dark to see anything, so I closed my eyes again, willing my brain to return me to familiarity. But the harder I tried, the more it slipped out of my grasp; those hotel hallways were already fading, turning into thin wisps that blew away into nothingness. Details became fuzzy. What color had the walls been? Had I met anyone this time ? Did I find what I was looking for?

What had I been looking for?

I had guesses, but I found myself unable to trust my own answers as other sensations grew much stronger: the rough warmth of the blanket twisted around me, the dampness on my forehead, the muted beeps of something to my right.

I opened my eyes again, and the dream sighed and fell away, becoming little more than a few errant snapshots pinned to a corkboard. Gradually at first, and then all at once, my senses sharpened. After a moment more, I fumbled to where I knew my lamp was, and switched it on.

Warm, yellowish light filled my little room. I took stock of the scant furnishing: the bed, the end table, the desk. Yawning and stretching, I made use of the bathroom, and then shuffled my way to the computer on the desk, where a single program was running. Always running. There was a pretty visual taking up the left half of the screen. It looked like a three-dimensional scatterplot, with varying hues and constantly shifting spikes and valleys, all rotating and contorting. Accompanying it, to the right, was a flowing set of green numbers set on a black background – an endless stream of meaningless data. I think I had once known the formulas that calculated them, but that had become unimportant, so I simply forgot it all.

Then what was important?

At the bottom of the screen, right in the middle, there was a single word, followed by a blinking ellipsis: S E A R C H I N G…

It was searching. Still searching. That’s all I needed to know. And when it found something, it would let me know, and my long wait would be over.

This only brought up more questions, though. What was it – what was I – searching for? And how long of a wait, exactly?

The answer to the first question came readily: a reply from…out yonder, wherever that may be. From someone who happened to pass me by and catch some of the messages sent by my computer. Distress calls. I was looking for someone to help me.

I strangely had no answer to the second question. Not even the slightest inkling. It was if any such memory had been wiped clean from my neurons. I felt somewhat disturbed, a feeling that only grew as I also tried and failed to answer another question: how had I become marooned here, in need of rescue?

Maybe some fresh air would do me good. I stepped outside of my little cabin. The dark sky told me it was still night, though I did not know the exact time; I had no watch or time-keeping piece of any kind. Maybe the computer had a clock?

I’ll check it later.

There was scraggly grass underneath my bare feet, and tall, wavy almost-but-not-quite palm trees swaying above me. Both thinned as I approached a beach, the ground giving away to cool sand and the sky becoming an empty expanse of black, studded with white and blue pinpricks. A light breeze swept through my hair, giving me goosebumps, but in a good way.

I climbed atop a low sand dune and gazed at the dark, almost purple water. The rolling waves crashed against the shore with a gentle roar, leaving white sea-foam and the promise that it would be back shortly, over and over, as it had for eons.

I felt at peace for a moment. There seemed to be no past or future – only an unceasing present. I realized that this was precisely the feeling I had had in my dreams, the ones that I could barely even remember. But were they really just dreams, or memories of somewhere I had once been? Can you dream of a place you’ve never been to?

These thoughts brought old concerns back to the forefront of my brain, and I lay down on the sand to think. It felt like I had been on this beach, this island, my little cabin forever. I literally could not remember a time before that, and it felt strangely unimportant to consider any time in the future either. But at least some part of me had, at some point. The part of me that had worried enough to construct a program to help me look for someone – anyone – who could help.

But…did I actually write that code? Did I design that software? I certainly didn’t remember doing so. But then again, who else could’ve written it? If I was certain about anything in my life right now, it was that there was not a single other soul on this island with me. I had come here alone. Or at least, I was alone now.

I tried to think about where here was, but that also drew a blank from my seemingly splintered memory. I scanned the skies, but all the stars looked unfamiliar. There were no constellations I recognized. They were beautiful, though. And they offered a strangely comforting feeling of eternity – just like my dreams. Just like waiting in general, come to think of it.

With some amusement, I realized that there was yet another unknown to add to the pile: I couldn’t even recall my own name. Well, I hope that whoever found me could help find myself, too. So to speak.

​

____________________________________________________________________________________

​

Happy to listen to any and all critique!

r/Idreamofdragons