It entered not by foot, but by silence.
The door never opened.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4Q9cJ7kYce
The fire dimmed, not from cold—but reverence.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ336swXB5D3
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.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxnLSRQLZlh
The wish made by something that had never had a name.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqEaZtP8sQy
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.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzBl3V5QgaE
A garden made of bone and hope.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0a2NcMZIkx
A city folded beneath a sea of teeth.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTqzvyINSP9
The first time someone looked at a sky and believed it meant something.
I brewed anyway.
Something small.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNTOiwkSg5z
Woven from pauseflower and nightmilk.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3gl9fWKxmF
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.
ns216.73.217.6da2
