Tales From a Thousand Worlds

There were dreams. There were always dreams, and none of them were pleasant. The line between the waking and sleeping hours seemed almost to no longer exist, all of it much like a hazy memory that ran one into the other and back again. Everything seemed to blur together, dreams of pain and fire that clawed at him and sought to drag him under. Occasionally voices came to him, sounding much like flies buzzing off in the distance. The word they spoke made no sense.

Follow this link for Part Two of Wisdom From The Ashes