I dreamed about a guy last night who is sitting in a train. It’s a luxury train where windows are graphed with beautiful sceneries and smiling faces. There are some images which can talk and the guy talk to them when he is lonely. When he tries to touch them, he cannot. They are just images.
The guy, tall dark not so handsome, was wearing a Blue T-shirt and a Jeans. Not so stylish. Not having so much dressing sense. He used to wake up in the morning and find that the images are busy with their own work. He tries to speak to them, images sometimes reply. Sometimes not. The guy realizes that he is in a train. And the train is running steadily. Not so jerking. A smooth run.
One day at night he woke up and saw all the images are sleeping. He tried to talk to them. No body woke up. He tried to touch them. He could not. He realized that how lonely he is. He went to the door. He tried to open the door. It was jammed. He tried hard and opened it at last. He found that the train is running through a desert. A rough atmosphere outside. He jumped from the train. I thought he will die. But he survived. He touched the warm sand, felt the extreme heat and smiled. I was surprised. I asked him why he jumped. He was about to answer and my alarm ringed. I woke up. I closed my eyes again to get the answer. But I could not reach to him again.
