Dream a Little Dream Read Online Free Page B

beside him. Mich shook his head, silently pitying her on one level while fearing her on another. He almost wished he could find her as attractive as she evidently found him.
    She put her spindly, callused hand on his. Mich wished he hadn’t come here. She took his chin in her hand and turned his face toward hers.
    Oh, no, here it comes. Mich got ready to pull away, as politely as possible, but she shocked him by not trying to kiss him. She only studied him.
    “I know you have no personal interest in me, you dear boy,” she said. “I’m tired of trying to trick you.”
    Mich sat back on the cushions and breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re a nice person. Just a bit—mature for me.” He hoped that would please her instead of annoying her.
    “I do know why you have come here. Kafka needs your help more than you know. So I will have to help you, though one aspect of it sorely grieves me. My dear boy, you are about to discover romance, and not with me.”
    That was not entirely reassuring. “I don’t know where to find a human, let alone a human who has the ability to destroy dream-stone,” Mich said. “And I don’t know anything about romance.”
    “That’s obvious. Do you know your Creator?” Madrid’s eyes were sharp and piercing.
    “Of course! The River of Thought. Everyone comes from there.”
    “Yes, that’s true. But where does it flow from?”
    “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
    She sighed. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to start at the beginning.”

    She positioned herself better on the cushions and folded her hands in her lap. “In the earliest years, the land surrounding the River of Thought was quite normal, with trees, grass, rocks, birds and sky. One day, a great dragon appeared. His name was Kafka. He was an immortal creature.
    “He was the son of a greater dragon, along with his brother. Kafka’s father was cruel to him. His father had absolute power over his family, and Kafka often felt low and cowardly in the presence of his father. He lived like a slave under his father’s cruel hand. Kafka had always searched for something to make him happy. He never found happiness in his life, yet he found it in his imagination.
    “As the years passed, he became bored with his situation and more and more curious about his growing world. He longed for escape. Kafka had a special power apart from his family. His imagination, coupled with his ability to write, was so strong that when he wished it, his stories became real. So, he invented Kafka. A place of dreams rather than nightmares. An escape from the nightmares he suffered. He gifted his new world to its neighbor, Earth. Earth was facing self-destruction, and without escape for its people, Earth would die. He understood this need and provided the cure, so long as Earth’s people had faith.
    “He was the ruler of Kafka for many years. And with each year, the land of the river grew larger. He explored every new border and every new territory. He is gone now, killed by the Fren that pollute the land, but he left behind Kafka, the land of dragons and dreams.”
    Mich was perplexed. “What does this have to do with humans?”
    “I’m getting to that!” she snapped, as if annoyed by his shallowness. “Now, Kafka himself sprang from the river. The river was always there. It was there before the land and sky. The river is, indeed, a river of thought. However, these are sleeping thoughts; dreams, if you will. Human dreams.”
    Mich’s confusion grew. What was she getting at?

    “Sometimes there are births. When an Earthling human believes so strongly in a living, nonliving or otherwise fantastic creature that he sees in his dreams, that creature is born from the river. These Earthlings are called Creators. If the Creator of the creature ceases to believe or forgets, then the creature will no longer exist and it will be as if he had never been.” Madrid took a deep breath.
    “So the humans are the source of the river!”
    “Yes and no.