"...horizon"

Well once upon a time.

I dreamed. In this dream I was a kid in a huge tribe of kids. We were dirty ragged all sorts, but we were fast smart keen to get over. We were survivors.

The Dream happens on a sunless world. Night eternal. The landscape was a war ruin. We roamed through tumbled down factories malls tunnels. We were always looking to scavenge whatever we could.

In dreams you have friends who when waking vanish from memory. Only to be waiting for you when you sleep again.

This dream was just so.

I loved my tribe. My dream-time cadre of wild eyed filthy survivors. We hunted sang, and slept together. We shared danger, and love. Who could ask for more?

A Mystery.

There were mysteries in this dream world.

I remember a bunch of us sitting on a pile of bricks looking up, and watching huge dirigibles. Great sleek floating cities. They were silent as they floated by.

Silent, but burning. They sailed over us one after another like burning clouds. Burning brightly, but not consumed. A mystery.

Danger.

We were running all of us. Dragons. We were perused by great T-Rex dragons. ...not of one them smiling!

We took to the roofs we flew from roof to roof street to window to tree.

We could fly!

It was so real I could hear the whistle of the wind in my ears the rush of cold air in my face. All the while being chased by Dragons.

The dream morphed again.

As I leaped from a T-Rex I landed in a kind of tree house, and I was very very old. I was on a world of trees. A forest planet. Like America before civilization ate it or Endor from the Star Wars mythology. 

A pale ringed moon was rising on the horizon.

'But this, this dream is another story for another time.