The flower that spoke to the moon.

Fejha ran towards them, she had a slightly awkward smile, it seemed a bit rare event, since the little girl usually had a constantly expressionless, almost apathetic face. But she was not a grumpy child, on the contrary.

"Big Brother One!" She said, approaching Dulkha and jumping with excitement.

"So, now I have reverted to big brother two?"

Oskah said.

"I had a dream. A dream I want to tell you. I thought you would never come back."

Dulkha didn't know what to say. He was scratching his hair, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

Oskah, with a smile forced by the feeling of heaviness he felt on him, decided to take his leave.

"I'm going to report to the Division Chief. See you later."

"Wait, I'm not ..."

Oskah was already gone, his hand waving in the air, greeting the blindfolded boy behind him.

"Damn."

Fejha regarded Dulkha with perplexity. Her eyes began to turn sad as they were glued to Dulkha's face.

"Don't you want to hear my dream?"

The boy was forced to give in, having no valid excuses that came to mind.

"Okay, let's hear."

Fejha jumped again, still wearing that weird smile.

Let's go to a special place.

Fejha took Dulkha around the city, holding him by the hand.

"Come on, come on!"

Among the faint residues of humanity that he still possessed, and that grew in him, embarrassment was one of those emotions still alive. When they passed in the central part of the city, the boy found himself in the eyes of all the citizens. Those who no longer held contempt looked at him dazed, those who still did not trust him had a look similar to fear.

"C-Can you avoid taking me by the hand?"

"Why?"

"They all look at us ..."

The child turned to him; she had regained her usual expressionless expression.

"So what? We get there first this way."

Dulkha lost hope. It would have seemed even worse if he had forcibly released the child's hand. There would be the end, looks would kill him.

"All right..."

"This is the park area, have you ever been there?"

"No."

The two passed through the park. It was a little park with lots of trees, benches and a fountain in the middle. There was hardly anyone.

"The old man told me these trees have probably been here for centuries, and they hold the memories of those before us."

"The old man?"

"Yes. I haven't seen him in a long time. I think he went to visit his family."

Dulkha understood who he was referring to. The old man, Oskah's deceased companion. The boy thought it was ironic to have met him when he was dead, but he knew him through people's words. Ironic. It's a bit sad.

"Yes, you are right. It must be so."

Dulkha said without thinking.

An imposing and shabby looking building; the palace of the sheets.

"Not many people come here. Many of these sheets are in a language we cannot understand, others can be read, but few can read."

A door with the symbols of the old school of exorcists embedded in it was heavy, Dulkha opened it for Fejha.

Massive shelves. One on top of the other they dispersed visibly.

The interior was mostly empty, there was no one in sight. Some of these books were so old that just looking at them would have ended up in dust.

Fejha dragged Dulkha by the hand again, facing the corridors that the child seemed to know by heart.

"My favorite sheets are these, now I'll show you them."

Fejha stopped abruptly, looked around carefully but could not see anything. Among the pile of books, she had in front of her, there was not what she wanted.

"They moved him ..."

Fejha looked several times, from right to left, from bottom to top, but nothing. Then, looking up, she noticed something.

"Here it is! I need a ladder."

Fejah did not have time to look for a ladder that Dulkha, wearing his usual passive gaze, tried to reach the top book, using her bandages.

"Then it is true that you are magical." Said the little girl.

The boy actually masked his current insecurity about his powers. "Come on ... Come on ..." he whispered.

Dulkha grabbed the book, rolling it up in her bandages, and handed it to Fejha who happily took it in her hands. Scrolling through the pages, she found something.

The book had no cover, there was a _______________

24/11/3215

This is my favorite story. I've told you many times, I know.

But...

There was a flower. Among the forests and the other flowers, he was the only one. He felt unique. All the other flowers slept no, they were content with having fallen and reborn in the earth, waiting alone. The other flowers, the other things in heaven and earth, did not know solitude.

He wanted it to be like that for him too.

The flower knew that it was born on the moon, that it looked at it forever without really noticing it. He one day rose from the earth in a luminous trail, a power that does not belong to the earth. He wandered trying to make sense of his existence. The verb of "feeling everything and always" tortured him more than a thousand spears on his belly.

He wanted to go back to the moon, but she had forgotten him. He had a mission that he no longer remembered. He didn't remember his mission, so he never had it.

So, he started cutting the other flowers, tore them up, watched them suffer for hours, days, years. He came to close his tears, cover his eyes with ice and his newborn heart with dust. And so, forever, until his heart beats again, but in that case, it will be too late.

Maybe one day the moon will wake up, bringing us all to sleep.

Everyone at ...

…

"Big brother one, are you okay?"

Dulkha felt faint again. The words had been spoken by Fejha (?), Their voice came from faraway places. But just as close.

"I'm fine..."

"Then?" "Then?" "How then?" "Ah ... I don't know what to think."

Fejha snorted tenderly.

"Honestly, big brother one, I also feel strange when I come here. I feel something pulling me down, and sometimes this thing is so strong that I almost fall asleep."

Dulkha nodded and helped Fejha put down the book. After they walked out of the sheet building, a thought flashed through his head.

"But then, what dream did you have?"

"The dream?"

"You told me you had to tell me a dream ... or something like that. Not that I care."

The little girl stared at the street in front of her, even though she seemed to be looking elsewhere with her eyes. She smiled the strange smile from before.

"Maybe I'm dreaming now. So, when I wake up, I'll run and tell you my dream."

"You're weird."