THE BOOK

Authors note: y'all asked me to do it, so here it is.

I was pushing my limits. I ran, with the knowledge that if I kept going for a couple more yards, I would surely have no hopes of breathing. I don't know why, but my small shape prevents me from getting anywhere. I naturally slowed, and it took all my willpower to keep going. My lungs were on fire and I was pretty sure I had just ran a mile in two or three minutes. As my willpower shrank and my need for oxygen grew, I suddenly collapsed on the grass. Seeing my companion ahead of me, I knew at least he would survive. I calmly watched a little bug crawl up a thin strand of lime green grass. I offered my finger to let it climb to the top. It flew silently from its neon perch to my dull pink sleeve. I continued fooling around with my minuscule friend until I heard thumping, a sinister crack and an indescribable pain in my shoulder, then my back. As blood gushed and my world collapsed, I caught a flash of my bright red bug, still on my sleeve, a true friend staying with me here as my world blacks out to nothing.

Silence greeted my ears. I opened my eyes. It was pitch dark and I hadn't the slightest clue if I was conscious or not. It seemed pretty realistic as the cold ground lurched below me. And then true reality came, for I felt the sense of cold, which can't be felt in dreams. Or can cold and hot be a sense in the world of sleep? for when you wake up, and think about the dream you just had, you remember it being much more detailed and important. Perhaps sense of touch, temperature and feel are existent in dreams but when you find yourself in reality, you grasp and grope for more detail. Feel is a lost detail in the clashing worlds of dream and reality.

So I stood, knowing reality, not knowing how I came to stand from unconsciousness. And then I came upon a stabbing pain in my shoulder and my back after a failed attempt at walking. Hmmm