He had a dream when he was seventeen years old, and it was the only dream he had in the three years since.
In the dream, there is a large expanse of ink-white, so sticky that it absorbs all the images called background.
Then a little girl jumped out of the white mist, holding a furry doll in her hand, and ran towards me happily. The heavy fog covered the way she came, but she could clearly see nothing: dark brown curly hair, bright brown pupils. Her clear laughter echoed around him, without any other noise. Her voice was ethereal and penetrating and struck his heart directly.
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