It’s not like I’ve forgotten. I’m pretty sure I rember where this place is, and I’ve actually seen this scenery in my dreams.
However, outside of those dreams, I can’t recall what it looks like.
But it’s not like I forgot. Not at all. It’s just that I don’t have the proper cue I need to draw the mory out. Reality offers no opportunities to rember. I’m sure if I did try to recall it, if I even can, then I wouldn’t get the chance to do so.
I an, the person standing before now has absolutely no connection to the reality I know.
“Do you have a wish?”
The face of the man (woman?) asking this in such placid tones keeps changing, never staying the sa for long. The deepest parts of my psyche that weave this dream can’t seem to pin down its features. I’m sure I’ve seen this face sowhere before. It simultaneously resembles everyone and no one.
My answer must have been bland and noncommittal. That’s why I can’t rember the response I receive. But the person listens to my reply all the sa and then hands so sort of container.
“This Box can grant any wish, no matter what it may be.”
It really does look like a box.
I squint my eyes as I examine it more closely. My vision isn’t poor. Despite this, I still can’t seem to see the Box clearly, even though it’s so close. It’s empty.
And sothing seems very wrong about that. It’s like shaking an unopened box of cookies where you can feel the weight of the contents and hear them rattling around, only to find it’s empty when you open it.
I’m sure the next thing I did was ask so boring question like “Why are you giving this to ?”
“Because you’re so very interesting. You’re all so similar that I find it practically impossible to see the little things that distinguish you. You intrigue to no end, yet I simply can’t tell one of you from another. It’s all very ironic.”
I have no idea what this ans, but I nod as if I do.
“I can identify you, though. You might not think much of it, but that’s more than enough to catch my eye.”
I look inside at the bottom of the Box. Though there isn’t anything in there, I feel myself overco by the uncomfortable sensation that sothing is trying to pull within. I quickly avert my gaze.
“Use this Box, and whatever wish you could possibly have will co true. It doesn’t matter what you ask for. You could wish eternal sorrow upon the entire human race, and I wouldn’t lift a finger to stop you. All I want is to see what kind of wishes you, all of you, will make.”
Whatever I say next brings a smile to the other person’s face.
“Heh-heh… No, no, it’s not so sort of special power. It’s actually the innate ability of humans to possess clearly defined visions that makes their wishes co true. All I can do is give that ability a little push.”
I take the Box. But of course, I don’t rember that, or this dream, once I wake up.
I can still clearly recall how I felt about that man, and my impression never changes, even within the dream.
This guy’s…
…kinda creepy, isn’t he?
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