Mt. Dream
The sun is escaping, but now I see a new source of light peaking from behind the curtain.
How did I arrive here? My gaze stuck to the horizon, I cannot move or breath.
Something is speaking to me, like my own voice playing in my head.
The wind chimes from my childhood home dance on the breeze. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
Is the light staring back at me?

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