A dream from June 20th, 2026
I stand on a flat, high-altitude plain scattered with rocks of various sizes, sparse grass and wildflowers filling the cracks between them. The uninterrupted line of dirt and smaller stones stretching before and behind me gives the impression that this place has rarely seen bipedal life—or, if it has, it is during a time when it looks nothing like it does today. Maybe it is the foggy air that lends it a sense of mystery and magic, but this place seems untouched by the kind of time marked by humankind. A place found only when it wants to be.
What brings me here, or whether my trip has been fruitful, I do not know. But I do know that I have reached the end of it, and it is time to leave. There is a train station somewhere—the same one that brings me here in the first place—and I need to find my way back.
I look again at what makes me stop in my tracks: two branching paths. To my left is a twenty-minute trail along a dangerous track lined with steep cliffs, uneven terrain, and ropes that do not look entirely safe to hold on to. Ahead of me is a forty-five-minute trail along an easier track with a scenic view, beginning with a long bridge over a steep cliff. I am in a rush to catch the last train, but I struggle to choose a path.
Before I can make a choice, the sound of adults yelling and children laughing draws my attention to the second trail, the one with the bridge. Two families are walking toward me. Although the bridge and the families are still far away, I recognize them from somewhere earlier along the trail.
There is an overlook at the top of a high cliff that I choose not to visit. The height is terrifying even to look at from afar. But two young girls, both under the age of ten, hang from the outside of the protective railing, using only one leg to support their entire weight as they dangle upside down like bats to see the waterfall below. And there they are, doing it again. Only now are they running away from their parents on a swinging bridge suspended between two high cliffs, throwing themselves over the old protective ropes and hanging from them like bats, giggling uncontrollably. They hang from one side of the bridge, pull themselves back up, then run to the other, repeating the game over and over in perfect unison, as if they do not have a single care or fear in the world.
Watching them hang from the sturdy iron railing of the overlook is terrifying enough. But seeing them do it on a swaying bridge—something in me takes over. Afraid their little game will end with them falling to their deaths, I run toward the girls. I do not know how I will stop them, or how I could possibly catch them if they fall, but logic be damned. My legs are already carrying me at full speed toward the edge of the cliff.
I feel one leg, then my entire body, suspended in the air. And for a brief moment, I know I am going to die. I glance down at the chasm below, trying to calculate how much time I have left before instant death, or how long the unimaginable pain will last before it takes over.
But when I look down, the chasm is no longer there.
Instead, a small stream shimmers brightly right below my feet. I land in water that comes just above my knees, with nothing more than a splash that tickles my face.
Either the adrenaline or the cold water wakes me up, and the weight I have felt since arriving on this trail lifts. I look up at the sky. The clouds and fog are no longer there; in their place is a brilliantly blue sky without a single cloud to accompany the dazzling sun.
Laughter erupts from the bottom of my stomach as I lift my arms toward the sky, unbothered by the families on the bridge or the two girls looking down at me from their perch. The younger of the two, clearly the main troublemaker, takes my gesture as an invitation. She flings herself from the rope of the bridge and into my arms. I catch her, and we fall backward into the stream without letting go of one another.
Sitting up, I look at her wild face. Her cheeks are red, her two front teeth are missing, and her hair is a mess…and she looks like the happiest person in the world.
I forget that I have a train to catch.