a memory of the wind

This is a dream that lives in plains; it stretches endlessly in every direction. The wind soars and plays like a living thing. The grass rustles in the breeze. //"I wanted to make something for you. I wanted to try, at least," says a voice, far away. "You've given me something precious. Even if maybe, you don't realise it. My memories of you are here. They want to be seen, so you should be able to find them easily."// [[It is the very opposite of difficult, to rise. To follow the wind.->1]]

The wind rises, rolling over the plains, over the cliffs that huddle around them; coming to hills and forests. To a bright and beautiful world. It spreads itself out, bigger and bigger. You can follow it wherever it goes, without harm to yourself. [[The wind plunges into a valley, and whistles along its length.->2]] [[A current lifts it among the clouds; it scatters them like a dog among sheep in a playful spin, finding something new.->3]] [[It bursts into a storm, energy frenetic, whipping itself into a turbulent shape.->4]]

The wind hurtles along the valley, keeping low to the ground, taking you with it. It delights in speed. This place is filled with monuments of another age, metal and stone chimes that capture the wind as it passes by. In the tones they make, the song of an ancient past, a memory spreads its wings and flies along with you. //In the lingering sound of a tune long lost is a recollection of music, varied and strange. What you can catch may be pleasing to your ear; the person whose memory this is feels quiet contentment, happy to listen. "You shared these things with me," says a voice from far away. "I have to admit, I don't understand everything. But all this music brings you joy, so I'm happy to listen. There's a lot of things I know now that I didn't know then, thanks to you. It's fun. With you, I learn a lot. I enjoy it - I enjoy your company. I don't know if I've told you that, but there's no harm in telling you again, I think."// [[The wind turns back to the plains, and leaves the valley behind.->1]]

The wind pierces through the clouds; it rises high above the land, following the curve of the horizon. The lights of some civilisation far below burn brightly, stars that fell to earth. Up here, where the air is clear and no clouds block your view, you can almost imagine that things have been reversed; that you are falling backwards into a limitless space. But you could stop yourself, any time you wanted, and catch the wind and align yourself. You could rise up again, whenever you liked. In the clouds that whip by, in the pattern of the lights, a memory catches up to you. //It might be odd to see yourself roaming a place you have never been; a floating world of screens and holograms, metals and colours that shape themselves at your command. Things that respond to your will as quickly as you want them there. The version of you that exists here jumps quickly from place to place, without fear; there is always something to catch you, always something that needs your attention. Something new and bright being created just out of your field of view. You are smiling, sometimes. More often, you are a worried kind of quiet, focusing hard. Dispersing the static that lingers around you with bursts of sound or light. The person whose dream this is follows you without feeling the need to speak. Perhaps, sometimes, they try to, but the words fail, and silence reigns. All they can do is attempt connection through those bright points of light, that act of creation. "I like seeing you create, you know," says a voice, far away and fond. "You have a perspective on it that's always been yours. I can tell, when it's you. I always look forward to what you do. What you're capable of - I believe in it. I believe in you. Have courage. You can do so much. See it through, until the end. You have the strength for that."// [[The wind lingers for a moment, revelling in the sky, then sweeps downwards to the earth.->1]]

The storm blazes into life around you, a maelstrom of energy. It bites into the earth. It whips the clouds into a frenzy, and stirs lightning from the sky. In the eye of the storm, in the silence and stillness that comes with the absence of anything else, a memory falls like the slightest prediction of rain. A single droplet into an unwavering pool. //This memory is steeped in silence. It's dark, and hard to breathe. Still and quiet, an emptiness that goes beyond normal bounds. They are fragments, flickers of a world that can't quite be touched. Memories of you linger here, fractured visions tinged by worry. You sit silently, or curl in on yourself. Hands pressed to old wounds that still bleed, ugly scars that twinge with pain. "Sometimes, I don't know what to say to you," says the distant echo of a lingering voice. "I feel like - no words would be enough to reach you. I'm afraid of saying something that might hurt what you already have... It's easier to express myself, like this, so I'm saying it now. It's not much of a gift, I know. I know. But I don't want to keep turning away... You're lonely, too. The least I can do, after all you've given me, is be there for you. I don't - really know how. There's still a lot I don't understand. But I'll try. I'll try harder. I promise." That distant voice wavers with regret.// [[The storm calms, as easily as it came.->1]]