Shuja Tasleem

  I spend my days in mindless chain-of-thoughts in the hope of brewing some compelling story. But sadly – most of the time, I end up fixing my reality instead. I try to change the endings of each encounter I ever had or will have with people I have either lost or am afraid to lose. Thank god, my dreams give me hope that my subconscious is still good at sewing fiction. So, today I bring to you excerpts from a dream – I woke up in the middle of exactly when the clock was about to strike two in the dead of night. I have a strong urge to note this dream down in my dream journal before I lose it to mindless mundane days or fuzzy sleepless nights. (Yes, I have a dream journal.) Here goes… It was the end of the world; at least it felt like that to me. Or maybe it was one of those abandoned sets of a sci-fi movie where destruction had taken over, and the plot was waiting for some miraculous recovery twist. Vaguely eying one ruin after the other, I knew I was maneuvering myself in...