I had a dream this morning. In this dream, I was a cat. I don’t understand the dream, but it felt like it had a meaning, so I wrote it down. Sorry it's so dodgy.

The Road
“You followed me here, didn’t you?
“Yes”
Silence. The grass rustles around us.
“Do you know where we are?”
“Yes”
“You shouldn’t.”
She walked in silence beside me, saying nothing.
“You think you know where we are, you can name the place, can you not?” I ask her.
“Yes…”

The grass, taller than us both, covers our vision. Yet I see the road beside me, and I see her, though I know that she cannot see me, and anyone walking along the road would miss us both completely.

“You followed me here, knowing where you were. But you didn’t know where I was. You couldn’t. Every time I come here, I come to a new place.”

I sense her confusion.

“People walk along this road all the time, and they only know where they are, and where they’re going. But they can’t see. They don’t look around them.

They can’t see us. They can’t see the grass here, the creatures among it; they can’t see if someone has dropped their wallet on the road and wants it back.

“Every time I look at someone I see something new, and sometimes what I see frightens me. There is always something you don’t see at first, which is why you have to keep looking, because you will never know it completely unless you do.

“Look down – can you see the pebbles here, the dirt?” I know she looks down. I feel it.
The pebbles beneath me appear to breathe, their colours absorbing my attention. So rich. They pulse in my mind. I forget what I was saying for a moment.

“These pebbles are the most beautiful things you will ever see.” I tell her. But I know she can’t see them.

Can you handle being blind to everything? If you were born blind, then it wouldn’t be a problem. So we don’t notice. We were born with it.

The Second Part - End of the Road

“Can I have some?” The fox watched me with glazed eyes, his breath coming raggedly.
“You can.”
“It’s my birthday today, you know. I’m dying.”
He stares pointedly. I wonder at the scarf around his neck, the red and white scarf placed there by one of the fell creatures, long ago.
“Can I have some?” he asks again. I don’t know what he wants from me, but I give it to him, in the same moment recognizing what it is: chicken.
He greedily starts eating the chicken, and I notice how thin he is, how weak. An old fox. I’m dying.
He looks up at me, having eaten as much as he can handle in such a short time.
“It’s my birthday.” He repeats to me. He stands up and shakes his head, then turns tail on me. I know theres an understanding, here. I’m glad – after all, it is his birthday. And he is dying.

The old fox lopes off in the direction of the train station, and I feel a moment of something. Going there to die. He calls over his shoulder to me. “The colours are all mine!’

Odd, the last one: I changed it a bit. Doesn’t make sense. But it felt like there was meaning. As for the first one, a girl at my school was the girl in it... I don’t know why she was in it. Probably random.

Dreams are fun!~