Transcribed from a dream that I had during my late teen years.
A man that looked incredibly similar to Father Time was browsing in what seemed like a huge private library. Books of all sizes were stacked neatly on thousands of shelves, all the same brown color labeled “Life” on the side in fancy gold letters. At a closer view, it is noticed that each book is a volume labeled by roman numerals placed in numerical order on the shelves. The man removes one of the books from it’s place as if he were demonstrating a key posture in a musical. He says in an entrancingly melodic voice to his assistant the following:
“You meet so many people everyday, never considering the stories that lies behind each one, no matter how short or insignificant. So many stories, some short, some long enough to form books. All related, intertwined at some point, all told in sequence, in volumes upon volumes, in the everlasting series called Life.”
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