Fog. I was in a world, completely surrounded by fog. I couldn't see my hand, even when I touched my nose. The fog was overwhelming. It took over my sight, it assaulted my other senses. The smell was overpowering, the silence unbearable. It even got into my mouth, leaving a foul taste on my tongue.
I wandered aimlessly for short time, but I soon became weary of walking into something, and sat on the ground to rest, thinking that the fog would soon dissipate. I don't know how long I sat there before I heard a voice, calling my name.
"Marcus... Marcus... Marcus..." I tried to answer, but nothing changed the rhythmic chanting of my name. I tried walking toward who, or what, was calling my name. When I didn't get any closer, I tried jogging toward it, then ran. I ran as fast as I could, but still didn't get any closer to it.
I finally woke up, and here I am. Still confused about what this dream could mean. Tonight I'll sleep again, and if the dream returns, I want to be ready for it. I'll spend the day thinking about it. What else can I do? It had the same strange feeling as the dream with the face. I know it's special, somehow. Dangerous, I don't know. But I can't waste another night walking around aimlessly.
Take care, my readers. Until my next dream, and post, may your own dreams be mild and pleasant!
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