Home

You come to your flat. Open the door. It’s dark. Is that your world lurking inside? Put on the lights. Oh yeah! It’s your home. Then enter into your room. Move the curtain from the glass window. You see the silence out there, trembling mildly in the bronze color light coming out from the post under the big, hairy tree. The shadows from the leaves like the mysterious sibling of the silence, whisper. What is it saying? For whom is it? Is it for you? You come to the balcony. You see the people. You can't see their faces because they are wearing big hats. You watch them closely. So close to see their shining claws and hairy hands. Now, they look at you. They are not human. They are wolves. You run into your room. Go to another balcony, open the door.

You see the long, busy road, the headlights from the cars; coming to you, flooding, and fading away like the memories of an old kingdom; the beautiful apartment and the pretty woman in the window; oh! you gasped; this is the world you know, yes. What you can see from this balcony is nothing new. It’s your world where you live. It’s your world what you see from your flat. You felt sleepy.

Darkness slowly perches on your eyes. You see your loved ones in your dream. Then it’s light again. You can feel it. Your eyes are getting wormer. You can't keep it close. Eyes wide open. Light is coming through the glass window. The honks-the running shadows of the wolves on the broken wall-the marching sound of the troops. You open the window. A battle tank, tearing apart the night with its creaking sound appears from the dark. What is it doing here? You close the window and turn back only to see yourself standing alone on a ground. Naked.