The images of war and chaos were flickering before me, so close, so real. There seemed to be no end to this madness. 

I opened my eyes. 

How long has it been? Days, weeks, months? I carefully looked around from under the white blanket. The view remained the same every time I checked. Still bright, but covered in heavy clouds, the sky looked as if the sun had barely disappeared below the horizon. Any moment now, the darkness might claim the blue endless abyss as its own. But the lighting never changed. No rules I knew seemed to work here, celestial bodies refused to move across the sky, and the greyish clouds continued to float everywhere I looked. 

As for the ground… In fact, there was no ground. I had been travelling across the sea by means of a small raft. It was the size of a bed, and had a blanket and a pillow. It was all I needed – most of the time I slept. The dreams I’ve seen sleeping on the raft were vivid, tangible, even. It felt as if I had to work my life off to create those dreams, and only this awkward fuel had kept the raft going forward. Strangely, neither water nor food was necessary. 

I don’t know how long the reality has been keeping me in this state. The only thing I know is that I’ve been heading home for as long as I remember. I am heading home, bound to never arrive.