I confess that I don’t know who will read my letter. I am writing this from a faraway place where few people has been. No, I’m not hidden in a cave or under the sea.
I am in a very, very cold place, but I am not cold. I’m sitting on the floor, alone, looking around me. I can see in the distance our world. Oh, I can hear the noise of the cities. I think a bank is been robbed in New York because I hear shots. Look at there, it’s snowing in Alaska, in Norway and in Finland; and in Spain they are celebrating a party. I can’t see Asia because it’s too far.
From here everything seems smaller than the reality. The world is a handkerchief.
While many things are happening down there, I have come here. Everybody sometimes needs time to be alone and relax. I have brought my headphones and a rock ballad sounds in my mind. The stars are closer than ever, I think I can touch them. It’s a beautiful scene. Perhaps I see a comet and I make a wish, but I don’t know.
Although this place is dark, I see the sandy soil and gray at my feet. There isn’t water and there are no trees. But I don’t feel thirst or hunger. I don’t listen to other people and it seems there aren’t any animals.
If only I am here alone, I can say that it is my special place. It isn’t a beautiful place, there is nothing here. But here everything is easy because everything is as I want.
However, someone has followed me. Morpheus has discovered my hideout. Slowly, he seeps through every part of me, seizing my mind. Little by little I close my eyes, overcome by sleep.
Many hours later, the light comes through my window. “Wake up, wake up! You will arrive late to school! Where are you, on the moon?” says my mother.
Once someone told me that through the dreams we get where we want. Impossible is nothing. You should never forget it.
Signed,
A Globetrotter.
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