Seeds by Batool Hasan

A kaleidoscope of shattered glass rain from the sky, falling atop one another in heaps. Sheltered by an invisible roof, I catch a pair of glowing orbs circling around me like vultures studying their prey. I step forward, daring to look closer. The orbs abruptly stop and stare, trying to calculate their next move.

The breath gets knocked out of my lungs as the Earth below me crumbles, and I sink lower. After moments of drowning in glass, scraps of deformed metal, and soft sand, Joy drags me by her warm hands out of the chaos. A grey landscape surrounds us as if a giant hand clumsily spilled cement over the world.

“Where have you been?” her soft voice whispers, brown eyes large with panic.

“I got lost,” but I couldn’t seem to say that.

Cold slaps of wind hit us in short waves. I begin to slip back into the melting concrete while she watches with disapproving eyes. I choke, but she offers no helping hand this time.

I manifest over an abandoned heaven that is no more inviting to me than a haunted house. Hues of pink, orange, and red dance off the ivory clouds, while Lily petals swim in the air around me. I tiptoe, walk, run over the endless clouds. Petals stick to my skin as I hastily try to find an exit.

I crouch and dig into a cloud.

White puffs rip, and I fall into oblivion.


I often wonder about the seeds people unconsciously plant into our minds, only to emerge and haunt us in our dreams. When situations replay themselves in dreams under a different light, and I notice that those eyes were a little distant while talking to me, that smile was a little too wide to be true…it is only then when I realize how much we love to blur the truth to fool ourselves of a sense of happiness.

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