The Magical Dreamcatcher

The Magical Dreamcatcher

Takeo Kensuke gently laid his palm to the centre of the dreamcatcher as he always did, and as always there was a high-pitched murmur that seemed only audible to him. The beads, beginning where Kensuke’s skin had touched the weave, began to pulsate and dance through a spectrum of colour.

Unable to keep his eyes away, Kensuke felt all other sensory perception grow muddy and distant.

The moment he blinked himself out of the reverie Kensuke was no longer in his apartment above the record store in Shinjuku, but a space of green and quiet.  Endlessly stretching and barely room-sized all at once, it was somewhere purely his. 

Kensuke had hypothesized that the dreamcatcher was a trigger for some latent mental imbalance, and the space was merely an extension of his psyche. But, being the type to live above a record store well into his 30s, he subdued such thoughts in favour of relishing the uniqueness of the experience.