i dreamt that time passed by and within a normal hour, it had already been one thousand weeks.
we backed up, staring stupidly at the sky, backed up confused.
then i almost tripped on a small rock, missed it just in time,
lifting our feet high, heavily dripping with mud.
and from the sky it rained thousands of paper strips,
a ripped up list of our memories from those one thousand weeks, laughing as they fell.
so we hurriedly gathered them, holding hands, falling and slipping in the mud and crying dirt away from our faces and screamingscreamingscreaming,
louder than any ocean.
within minutes we had a bag full of paper,
and then the sky was still low as if it was falling towards us, but now a calm colour like concrete.
we leaned against opposite sides of a tree, panting, grabbing handfuls of paper and chewing it,
not because we were hungry,
and not because we longed for each other at that specific moment,
but out of desperation, doing all we can to fill up our empty human shells.
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