Maybe it was the booth girls, or the cosplayers.
But when I went back to bed after breakfast this morning, I dreamed of a girl with a melancholic face.
Sitting in a car in the middle of night, I watched her head being shaved bald by another. It was either for art, or for political activism, I cannot remember.
When it was done, she returned to her seat next to me and wept in silence.
"It's no big deal. I like the punk look." I said flippantly. I don't think I was even looking at her then.
She took hold of my hand suddenly and smiled through her tears. My fingers stiffened at her cold touch.
Maybe my mind was filled with thoughts of another, maybe I feared the unpredictable future, maybe I didn’t know her well, maybe I was just surprised by her reaction. Whatever the reason was, the only thing I felt like saying then was:
"... oh shit."
But she had already stepped out of the car and danced by herself in joy.
A few other things transpired in the landscape of my dream that I cannot remember either. But I saw the girl with the melancholic face again, standing a few feet away from me. The sun was either rising or setting. She was bathed in a golden hue.
"You aren't really comfortable about this huh?" She said with a sad smile.
I said nothing.
She was gone.
When I woke up a few minutes before noon, I felt relieved. Yet I was also flabbergasted that I could have such vivid dreams in a sleep that lasted for less than three hours.
The girl with a melancholic face was a stranger whom I've never met in my life, but somehow, I felt sorry for her. For one like me whose life is devoid of romance, she left an impression with her fleeting display of affection. Thus I decided to write all this down before she fades away from my memories as well.
But when I went back to bed after breakfast this morning, I dreamed of a girl with a melancholic face.
Sitting in a car in the middle of night, I watched her head being shaved bald by another. It was either for art, or for political activism, I cannot remember.
When it was done, she returned to her seat next to me and wept in silence.
"It's no big deal. I like the punk look." I said flippantly. I don't think I was even looking at her then.
She took hold of my hand suddenly and smiled through her tears. My fingers stiffened at her cold touch.
Maybe my mind was filled with thoughts of another, maybe I feared the unpredictable future, maybe I didn’t know her well, maybe I was just surprised by her reaction. Whatever the reason was, the only thing I felt like saying then was:
"... oh shit."
But she had already stepped out of the car and danced by herself in joy.
A few other things transpired in the landscape of my dream that I cannot remember either. But I saw the girl with the melancholic face again, standing a few feet away from me. The sun was either rising or setting. She was bathed in a golden hue.
"You aren't really comfortable about this huh?" She said with a sad smile.
I said nothing.
She was gone.
When I woke up a few minutes before noon, I felt relieved. Yet I was also flabbergasted that I could have such vivid dreams in a sleep that lasted for less than three hours.
The girl with a melancholic face was a stranger whom I've never met in my life, but somehow, I felt sorry for her. For one like me whose life is devoid of romance, she left an impression with her fleeting display of affection. Thus I decided to write all this down before she fades away from my memories as well.
