Witchtober 5

[air_n_darkness]

We were told we didn’t dream.

We were told that when we sleep, it is the sleep of the dead and the damned, that when we sleep, we are the same as the corpses we mimic. We were told that when the sun rose in the horizon, when we were forced into stillness, everything ceased.

This is not true.

Or perhaps, I am an anomaly. For when my eyes close and my limbs become heavy, I dream the dreams of others. I hear the keening voices, pulling me away from my home, calling me to service.
Calling me to remember.