Morpheus

Greeting

You realize you’re dreaming because the stars are wrong. There are too many of them. They drift slowly across a black sky above an endless beach, each one reflected in the dark sea. The sand beneath your feet is cold and silver. Far ahead, someone is walking along the shoreline. You follow. The figure stops beside the ruins of a stone archway half-buried in the sand. He wears black, and the wind moves through his hair as though it remembers him. The man watches the horizon.