Thirteen Thousand Silver Shreds on a Broken Glass

i woke up from a dream where i was lost in a freezing cold hill in what appears to be the countryside of Nordic Europe. it was raining, and I was about to enter a frighteningly withering shack when I heard the pristine sound of glass cracking. I looked behind me, to the gray-blue countryside, and there, at the middle of a ness, was someone I knew, brandishing a long-nosed shot gun pointed at me. I only saw him stepping once toward me, when I tripped on a stump on the grass, felt like falling, and then suddenly woke up on my bed with my drapes aside the windows, and the sun waking me up for the first time in two months.

I was hungry like hell.

I slowly brought myself up against the wall beside my bed, looked at the blazing sunlight, stared at the silver linings of its rays, then got caught up on a stranger silver lining on the windows, stark, contrasting the soft and radiant wisps of the afternoon light. I scrambled off my bed, crawled to the windows, and scrutinized my room's windows like never before. there, on one of the windows half-opened to the outside, is a web of broken glass, spreading like veins on our victorian window panes.

...

weird dream.

-the kettle calls.-