It entered not by foot, but by silence.
The door never opened.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYxJdPJoOMy
The fire dimmed, not from cold—but reverence.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkKxblCDbke
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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5V4No5WGg9
The wish made by something that had never had a name.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡncU69z7Gjm
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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBz9ondfkP5
A garden made of bone and hope.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVI49rpoUsQ
A city folded beneath a sea of teeth.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡev6btaFl48
The first time someone looked at a sky and believed it meant something.
I brewed anyway.
Something small.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXZF079wYik
Woven from pauseflower and nightmilk.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrFjofdFfIR
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.
ns216.73.216.239da2
