~Synopsis~
Have wewe ever had a dream that seemed so real once wewe woke up wewe began to doubt whether it had been a dream at all? Some say our reality is merely a dream and that our dreams are our true reality. What if they were right? What if wewe found yourself dreaming a life that was actually taking place as your reality? Would wewe know the difference? Could wewe be sure that if au when wewe woke up that wewe weren’t actually falling asleep?
((This story's content has been edited to be zaidi suitable to those underage Fanpopers who may read this.))
~Prologue~
“Tabby really.” A tall woman with dark chokoleti skin and raven dreadlocks shook her head. “I can’t see how wewe are able to read such nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense, Kia,” Tabitha, Tabby to her friends, replied waving the half-open book in front of her friend. “They’re really good stories.”
“Once wewe get past all the sex, maybe,” Kia replied taking the paperback novel from her dusty blonde headed friend. “But when do romance novelists ever get past the sex part?”
The two were walking along a New York street. Their lunch break together had ended and now they were heading back to work. It had been like this for years. Today would prove no different for the two friends, and yet this siku couldn’t be zaidi different.
It seemed puzzling to Kia how Tabby was able to be so into a romance to keep kusoma it even when walking through town. For that matter it seemed odd that any book could hold such an appeal. But it was a routine for Tabby. Every siku was the same, perhaps a different book but a book nonetheless. Even as Kia flipped through the pages a little she still looked puzzled.
“Well, that book is zaidi plot based if you’re interested,” Tabby pointed out, almost proudly. “The mwandishi is good at combining ndoto like settings with romance.”
Kia just grunted disbelievingly, but nodded her head anyway as she handed the book back to Tabby.
“I guess it’s an acquired taste, if a taste at all,” Kia alisema softly, but Tabby didn’t seem to hear as she stuck her nose back in the book. Kia sighed.
The two women stopped at the corner where two roads met. Kia’s destination was an office building to the left across the street, while Tabby’s job was farther ahead.
“Coffee after work like usual?” Kia asked, readying herself to kuvuka, msalaba her side of the street.
“Aha,” Tabby merely nodded as she headed straight her thoughts on the story in her hands.
Kia shook her head again. The light for her kuvuka, msalaba walk flashed a figure of a man and Kia stepped to the street.
About halfway to the middle of the mitaani, mtaa there was the sound of a woman yelling something. A short gruff looking man and a tall man wearing a trench kanzu, koti crossing the mitaani, mtaa towards Kia started to run. Then the tires began to screech, a horn was blaring.
Kia’s head bolted up, as her eyes darted frantically, panic surging through her veins. Every instinct told her what was happening. A sekunde dragged painfully by. Even the rising cries of others were slow, starting low and rising.
“NOOO!” Kia screamed as she turned to watch Tabby suddenly drop her book. The paperback landed into the road. “TABBY!”
Every move, every sight and sound was going so slow. Kia’s hand reached out in a vain effort, as she began to run. But one of the two men who had started to run grabbed her kwa the arm stopping her short.
There was a seizing feeling inside of her mind. Sudden wrenching pain shot through Kia’s head.
Tabby only had time to barely turn her head before the truck hit her. Her body bent over the bumper and stuck for only an instant before being thrown. The picture looked as if her figure had simply Lost all solidness to it. Limbs flailed, blood leapt from her mouth like droplets of rain. With a tumbling roll, that didn’t look possible for a human, Tabby’s body hit the ground. zaidi blood sprayed as her head made contact first, cracking open. Limbs bent in half in places they couldn’t without breaking.
Then just as suddenly as a flash of lightning life left as if nothing zaidi than an afterthought.
Have wewe ever had a dream that seemed so real once wewe woke up wewe began to doubt whether it had been a dream at all? Some say our reality is merely a dream and that our dreams are our true reality. What if they were right? What if wewe found yourself dreaming a life that was actually taking place as your reality? Would wewe know the difference? Could wewe be sure that if au when wewe woke up that wewe weren’t actually falling asleep?
((This story's content has been edited to be zaidi suitable to those underage Fanpopers who may read this.))
~Prologue~
“Tabby really.” A tall woman with dark chokoleti skin and raven dreadlocks shook her head. “I can’t see how wewe are able to read such nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense, Kia,” Tabitha, Tabby to her friends, replied waving the half-open book in front of her friend. “They’re really good stories.”
“Once wewe get past all the sex, maybe,” Kia replied taking the paperback novel from her dusty blonde headed friend. “But when do romance novelists ever get past the sex part?”
The two were walking along a New York street. Their lunch break together had ended and now they were heading back to work. It had been like this for years. Today would prove no different for the two friends, and yet this siku couldn’t be zaidi different.
It seemed puzzling to Kia how Tabby was able to be so into a romance to keep kusoma it even when walking through town. For that matter it seemed odd that any book could hold such an appeal. But it was a routine for Tabby. Every siku was the same, perhaps a different book but a book nonetheless. Even as Kia flipped through the pages a little she still looked puzzled.
“Well, that book is zaidi plot based if you’re interested,” Tabby pointed out, almost proudly. “The mwandishi is good at combining ndoto like settings with romance.”
Kia just grunted disbelievingly, but nodded her head anyway as she handed the book back to Tabby.
“I guess it’s an acquired taste, if a taste at all,” Kia alisema softly, but Tabby didn’t seem to hear as she stuck her nose back in the book. Kia sighed.
The two women stopped at the corner where two roads met. Kia’s destination was an office building to the left across the street, while Tabby’s job was farther ahead.
“Coffee after work like usual?” Kia asked, readying herself to kuvuka, msalaba her side of the street.
“Aha,” Tabby merely nodded as she headed straight her thoughts on the story in her hands.
Kia shook her head again. The light for her kuvuka, msalaba walk flashed a figure of a man and Kia stepped to the street.
About halfway to the middle of the mitaani, mtaa there was the sound of a woman yelling something. A short gruff looking man and a tall man wearing a trench kanzu, koti crossing the mitaani, mtaa towards Kia started to run. Then the tires began to screech, a horn was blaring.
Kia’s head bolted up, as her eyes darted frantically, panic surging through her veins. Every instinct told her what was happening. A sekunde dragged painfully by. Even the rising cries of others were slow, starting low and rising.
“NOOO!” Kia screamed as she turned to watch Tabby suddenly drop her book. The paperback landed into the road. “TABBY!”
Every move, every sight and sound was going so slow. Kia’s hand reached out in a vain effort, as she began to run. But one of the two men who had started to run grabbed her kwa the arm stopping her short.
There was a seizing feeling inside of her mind. Sudden wrenching pain shot through Kia’s head.
Tabby only had time to barely turn her head before the truck hit her. Her body bent over the bumper and stuck for only an instant before being thrown. The picture looked as if her figure had simply Lost all solidness to it. Limbs flailed, blood leapt from her mouth like droplets of rain. With a tumbling roll, that didn’t look possible for a human, Tabby’s body hit the ground. zaidi blood sprayed as her head made contact first, cracking open. Limbs bent in half in places they couldn’t without breaking.
Then just as suddenly as a flash of lightning life left as if nothing zaidi than an afterthought.