They told us to never stop dreaming but never mentioned how much of a monster the dreams could be. Monsters which lurked in the dark, prowling and crouched, waiting to strike
Till the time you read this, I will no longer be there. I will be just a person in the past, a distant memory, a dream.
How many have wondered what happens to a dream when one wakes up?
Or what happens to it when the dreamer dies?
I am writing this from fifty years ago to when the monster lunged at me.
I am Lila James and this is my story.