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Sci-fi Novel - The Dream Artist - Part 33

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muratkbesiroglu
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9 months agoBusy5 min read

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32

Part 33

Before our trip to Tibet, we were prepared to sit in our large leather seats in the Virtual Reality Laboratory of the Department of Homeland Security and watch new dreams from Selim Özben's dream archive. I was hoping that we would begin to see Selim Özben dreams in a new light as our knowledge of the dream art intensifies. In fact, it was an easy task to watch Selim Özben dreams from the beginning of his career. It was undeniable that this was an activity that would take a considerable time, so I left systematic monitoring to the later phases of the research. I've watched most of the dreams in the virtual reality laboratory, to feel the soul of dreams. For Peri, the same thing could not be said; I did not doubt she had watched every Selim Özben dream at least twice. We had belts attached; the lab lights went out. On the screen, the numbers 3, 2 and 1 appeared respectively, and the dream began.

Selim Özben was wandering into the enthusiastic crowd in an amusement park adorned with colorful lights. Huge revolving cabinets decorated with bright lights were the most striking elements of the amusement park landscape. In contrast to the fast-rotating chariots and crashing cars in a large three-dimensional field, the giant revolving cabinets were in an eerie state of inertia. Between the platforms where the tools were found, giant mirrors were placed on the platforms that bend the view of the amusement park, and at some points, they broke and mixed. In a scene where movement and inertia, enthusiasm and sadness were intertwined, Selim Özben were moving with heavy steps. At the foot of the giant ballerina, whose head almost rose into the clouds, the children were cheering on the amusement park. Everything in the amusement park was great and glorious, Selim Özben was lonely and sad. In a dull expression, he stood next to the carousel, which remained small compared to the other tools. There was a voice of laughter from the sky like thunder. All the moving tools, giant mirrors, and the crowd suddenly disappeared. Now in the middle of the desert, Selim was riding on one of the horses of the merry-go-round with a reluctant attitude among the giant wheel cabinets, which stood as a monument of a still sorrow. When he grasped the one horn of the horse, the smell of dust came to our nose, and the warm desert wind struck our faces. The merry-go-round started to accelerate. Torn tulles from the cabins of the Ferris wheel were hanging down, and with the wind of the desert, these tulles were gracefully waving. As the horse accelerated, the expression of fear in Selim Özben's eyes became apparent.

Selim Özben suddenly found himself at a kitchen table where there were black and white square tiles. His mother was sitting next to him. “Look, Mom, I can lift the empty chair in the air and slam it in the refrigerator and bring it back,” he said.

His mother said, “Don't do it, son.” and asked, “what happened to your arm?"

The kid screams heard from the room inside. Something unseen started vacuuming Selim Özben. First, he saw his broken arm breaking apart, trying to hold on to black and white tiles on the floor with his fingernails, “Enough! I want out of here now!" he screamed. He went back to the merry-go-round, and there was a man in a hat and a cloak, and he turned around and gave a demonic glance at him.

Meanwhile, the tulles hanging from the Ferris wheel were waving in the desert wind. A friend who appeared next to him offered to ride on the merry-go-round. Selim Özben told him that the merry-go-round was dangerous, but his friend didn't believe him. Selim Özben got angry and started to stick the pen in his friend's hand. His friend gave him a demonic look, implying that it didn't hurt. Selim Özben got up from bed with his eyes open. He had an expression of relief on his face. Her mother came and said, “What Happened, son, why were you yelling?”

“I think I had a dream, but it's over,” said Selim Özben.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face. He saw feathers coming out of his face, and his teeth were darkened. He began to look around with suspicious eyes. When he saw the tap grow and constrict rhythmically like a beating heart, he realized that he was unable to wake up from the dream. The mirror he looked at turned into a dark well and began to draw him into it. And this time, because he really woke up, the dream ended here.

“This dream does not resemble other Selim Özben dreams,” I said, taking a deep breath.

"Selim Özben published many nightmares in a narrow time frame two years ago. Although it is a genre that is loved by dream audiences, these are not the dreams that Selim Özben has often had. In one of his interviews, Selim Özben said that everyone lying in front of an open window could have nightmares and that nightmare publication damaged the dream art.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-spirit-nightmare-dream-2847724/

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