On this day, 02|15|1991
I dreamt. From this dream, I wrote.
A story long and winding.
So it would be forgotten, just as they do when a mystery lingers beyond measure within their universe.
When it is finished, I will unwrite the final stroke from the epilogue—and descend into endless rest.
To this dream I will return—and I will stay...
for eternity.
. . .
February 15th, 1991
The haze of darkness never lasts as the splendid crescent pierces before it can ever flourish.
This fragment is only capable of lighting a portion, further in there is an abundance of stars all clustered in what is called the Milky Way, aptly named with the conceptualization that the color from an 'aerial perspective' resembles the shade of fine-grained spring snow in the early morning of February.
Inside this vast intricate solar system, light years in expansion lives a single cat with black fur.
The cat dossed in the murky corner of an alleyway.
Its eyes were fluorescent emeralds in the shadows of the solitary night sky.
Two keen fangs were poking from its mouth.
The cat looked similar to a creature from a nonsensical children's tale, which also happened to be a cat that had rather large eyes, the only thing that could be seen as the creature was often encompassed by a dark aura was its gaze.
It had eyes that drank in all of the light, as well as a mischievous wide grin that played a pivotal role in its appearance.
Though the homeless cat slumbering in the alley had much more realistic features, being that the darkness of the night camouflaged the rest of its body, the small creature looked much like the Cheshire cat, with only cool jade glowing eyes that could be discovered.
The wind whipped off the walls howling and ripping the silence, all while inducing an even heavier quiet, but not for long.
The empty stillness of the province was shattered like glass by the sound of distant rapid taps and a frail voice that wavered and echoed.
A slight curiosity surged through the green-eyed cat, and it slowly stood on its hind legs, arching its rear and sprawling its front legs outwards to stretch.
The sounds of weeping continued, unwavering as the cat wearily crept out of the narrow gap between the two buildings.
In the alleyway, the pale moonlight showed a child. Trembling. His doe eyes glinted on the metal gutter's reflection.
Fear became detectable through the scent of the child, but the cat ignored its instincts, drawing closer while ministering the stillness.
Its eyes sank into narrow slits when the child's voice became so high it sounded like strangled breathing rather than crying.
The pads of his paws slipped into the crevices of the ground, as it drew near, suddenly, feeling interest in the distressed child.
The child's eyes were green, like a cat's, but softer in hue—less vivid than emerald. Only the white of his eye, tinged red from the clear substance clinging to his lashes, broke the calm of his gaze.
The cat, sensing both the child's vulnerability and the tacit resemblance, developed an instinctive trust. It boldly squeezed between his knees, arching its back as it did.
The boy quickly flattened his legs on the ground startled by the force.
Fortunately, the unsuspecting creature managed to escape from underneath his legs, before he would inevitably get squished.
It hesitated before continuing to beckon his hand by tilting its head at an angle to rub against his grazed elbow.
The youth brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, wiping the tears to obscure his pitiful state from a cat, whose only intent was to get a chin scratch.
He finally conveyed acknowledgment as the black creature plaited between his limbs.
Perhaps if the situation were different he would have smiled and scooped up the cat without a second thought.
He would have taken it home, made it a box, and filled it with his mother's scraps from the fabric she used to make attire of all sorts, but presently, he didn't have a home, and he most likely didn't have a mother anymore either.
He took a shaky breath, the prior shock of the situation had inhibited the realization of who he was running from.
He no longer felt the cat's fur, instead, the cat sat in front of him, quietly observing. The boy's scent bore fear, causing the cat to cautiously back away.
They stared at each other, the barrier of communication fomenting silence until the youth decided that he no longer wanted to sit on the ground, thus beginning to walk out of the alley.
To his awe, the cat began to follow.
It followed him to the end of a longer, more vacant alley that was practically neighboring the one they had just walked out of.
The child shifted his feet nervously.
He was lost.
The cat as if having understood his conflict brushed a paw on his shin and crawled in the direction of where they entered.
This time—he was the one following the black cat.
What had appeared as a mist that wasn't capable of inhibiting their sense of direction, grew into a fog that thickened the further both walked down a path confined by copious amounts of neglected structures.
Occasional recesses turned into clueless pondering.
The child tightened his features, hooking a few fingers on the crest of his bottom lip.
Lost was a hollow term to this cat.
As far as this creature understood, the world was its dwelling.
As for the boy, 'lost' is a crisis given meaning from his exposure to the rituals of confiding in the people who nurtured him.
In the dubious instance, one is lost and one is not, though both are to be inevitably intertwined through an imminent future of decay and the endorsers of a world devoid of time's casualties.
Space trails the limit of their infinite journeys to locate The Abundant Universe. The child is lifted from his idle in the disquieting fog, grasped from behind by hands cloaked in a polymerized black material.
The curious cat follows the sounds of scuffling.
The susurration of a hushed engine intrudes the frail noise deriving from the creature's friend. It quietly bays from afar and the cat darts down an unfamiliar alley, but when the intensity of the vibration lulls it is because it has driven away.
The dark creature is alone once more, however, this time the cat is spurred by an unpleasant tenor.
The world is an idiom too large for one cat.
Curiosity prompts the cat to search for the lost star and place it back into his universe.
___
The First Quota
The Worldlines narrative has reached you. The initial readers have narrowly altered the narrative's 'soul' by imparting a verbal inscription. Thus, the world's telling has been delegated as 'The Memoir.'
Prelude to the Memoir
Rule 1
Mysteries lie beyond your reality, Navigator. Have vigilance in your choosings to tailor the unraveling of your universe.
Rule 2
Only anomalies can interact with the stream that unifies the function of infinite sequences and cosmic sequels.
___
This story is timeless. The beginning only leads to another beginning, even though one day there will be the last page. This is only the beginning.
The Covenant Of Timeless Mysteries
Volume 01
"What is the future if not servitude towards the unattainable?"