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Inside the dream

Iím walking the streets, apparently aimlessly, but my stride is as purposeful as a hunterís. I barely glance at the tall buildings around me, here in this strange city, the beauty of the autumn day is lost on me, but my eyes skim restlessly over the people around me. Iím looking for someone or something but I donít really know where to start searching or for what exactly. People are looking at me, especially men, but Iím used to it and never respond to the admiring glances. They are just faces, useless, interchangeable, unable to give me what I need. But this feeling of need, this craving which started as a small nagging thought inside me, is continually growing stronger and I canít get rid of it anymore. Itís started to influence my comings and goings, my days and my nights, and so I pace the streets day in and day out now, helpless to resist the force which is dragging me along.

Suddenly my head snaps up and my nostrils flare. I stare into the face of a middle-aged man and I simply know heís one of us although he moves through the crowd like a normal human, just like me. Itís the first encounter of this sort in this city since Iíve been here and I must admit that Iím rattled. I donít want to talk to him, I have no desire to meet another Arash. Donít misunderstand me, but I simply have to know what he is: a Dark Arash or a Bright one. Not that this information would help me, or would it?

   
   
As he comes closer I look into his brown eyes, scrutinizing his unremarkable face and docile expression. Certainly it could all be a ruse and his Dark Powers could be hidden very well but I definitely donít think so. Thereís just no spark of danger, superiority, or even arrogance such as I have observed in all Dark Arash, and I donít think itís any different here in New York than in London. Iím not quite sure why Iím so positive that I can detect a Dark one now. I have been one all my life and never paid special attention to it. But now itís become the most important thing for me, to find one, to connect with him and Ė maybe Ė to take from him.

My heart beats faster as the man approaches, I can sense him, and Iím astonished that he doesnít appear to recognize me for what I am but seems totally indifferent to me. Now heís beside me, I even brush my shoulder against his but all I feel is emptiness. And disappointment. And moments later a great rush of rage which courses through my body, red-hot, making me want to scream. My hands ball into fists and I hurry into an alley where Iím able to ubilocate undetected.

Back at my apartment I grab the nearest object, a beautiful black Murano vase, and smash it into a thousand pieces. In vain, another day was in vain, I didnít find anybody. And although I left home to avoid other Arash Iím obsessed with finding one, not anyone however, but one who will share his Dark powers with me.       

   
         
 
 

© Elke Stevens