Short stories

The dreamer

When I was about ten years old I had really big dreams. I wanted to go to the stars I wanted to fly plains I loved technology and I still do today. But dreams that big required lots of work and effort after realizing this I gave up on trying to go to space. I got a little older.

and then I gave up on being a pilot. I used to know what I wanted to do when I grow up. But all I could do now was dream about it. So I did. I sat in class and closed my eyes, I dreamed on and on about the wonders of life. I would relive my most treasured memories. Then I got a little older.

I started to give up I started dreaming like it was an addiction. I would open my eyes only wanting to close them to see my imaginary world again. I became distant with friends and family. Then I got a little older.

And I was to a point where I could dream no more because now I have to make a choice. I couldn't decide. But I had to do something so I decided to write down all of my dreams so I would never forget them. my imaginary world I held so dear, the imagery friends, the places I saw, the things I wanted to do, every thought every feeling. I then tucked them deep into the back of my bag and forgot about them. Then I got a little older.

I was studying to be a software engineer just like my father. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree they said. But I felt empty sure it was fun I loved the subject I was going into but there was always something missing. Then I got a little older.

I was cleaning out my backpack and I saw sitting in the back a crumpled smashed up folder. It must be trash I thought. I picked it up and threw it on the table. But somebody picked it up and opened it I didn't care at first it's not like anything important was in there anyway. I had everything I needed my knowledge, and my skill. But then that somebody smiled and flipped to the next page and laughed. I was distracted now I wonder what he found so intriguing. He flipped to the next page and was taken in awe. I asked him what he found so interesting he handed it to me I looked at it pages full of fantasy and wonder, I remembered. He then called his friends and they looked at them and enjoyed them too. But when they got to the last page they didn't want it to end they have fallen in love with my fantasy as much as I was but there where no more pages to read. Then I got a little younger.

I sat down with people around me hugging me smiling at me and waiting patiently. They wanted to hear more of the fantasy we all desire. I closed my eyes as they all silently waited. And I dreamed once more.