The Vague Dream of A City

It was a warm night. He woke up on the bed, with a sweaty forehead. The dream was real, so real that he got confused whether he was waking up, trying to remember the bits of the dream, or he was feeling amused, laughing at the boy who got confused in the so-called reality.

He was talking to a cat. A small, black cat.

"So, why are you here? Why do you come into my dream?"

"No. You brought me into your dream. You dreamed about me."

That was weird. How was it possible to talk to a cat. "Oh, this is a bad omen", he thought to himself. A black cat. He went and checked the calendar. 

"Oh thanks god, it's not Friday the 13th. But, talking to a black cat is equally bad as well. "

He went down from his bed, to the small, brown desk in his bedroom. He switched on the study lamp, and he saw the set of photos that he had taken, for the past four years. 

He smiled to himself. The set of photos, when combined, it would be a story akin to the Aesop Fables. The dream that he dared not wish before that. 

The years had gone by. The dream is still there, sitting there like a demure, young lady, smiling back to him.

He decided to take her out for a date.

The city is beautiful. He noticed that, for countless times in the past four years. To him, the city's like the sweet girl that he loves all this while, revealing different sides of her for the past four years, and yet, still so captivating everytime he sees her. 

This is not exactly how he pictured the city, before he arrived. Just like how you thought your perfect girlfriend would be, she would not be the same girl in your mind, but you would treat her as though she is the angel falling from heaven. 

Many poets, photographers, artists talked about this city. Some came here to stay for a couple of years, to immerse in the culture, and to find inspirations among the crowds. 

"So, do you like this place, after living here for the past four years?" The dream asked.

"I am really not sure. It's pretty. So stunningly beautiful, but in a silent way. I can't say that I like which part of the city, but the city is just perfect as a whole. "

The conversation died there. The emptiness was replaced by the autumn leaves and the cooling breeze. He continued his journey, feeling nervous at times, for he couldn't find any words to describe the place.

He walked past the bridge. The two towers were standing there, mocking at the bridge which is located right opposite them. He couldn't help but laughed on the scenery, and his stupidity. Before he came here, he was a strong believer that the bridge with the two towers is London Bridge. 

"Blame the nursery rhymes." Both he and the dream had a good laugh on that. 

As he was walking down the riverbank, he suddenly knew that what was so special with this place. 

"I think I know why I like this place. "

"Oh, you do? Why?" the dream curiously asked. 

"You see, walking down the Thames riverbank is like a scene from a timeless movie.  Each steps of your walk will transmute into a part of your memory. "

"And.. when you have the chance to come back to this place, you probably find that your memory of this place is like a beautiful mess- of leaves, flowers and snowflakes. At that time, you know that you have never left this place." 

The dream put a smile on her cheeks. She is happy that she is his dream, that comes true finally, and he is happy that he is kissing his dream.

Sitting on a bench near the London Bridge, he saw the red neon light under the bridge. And, the same black cat in his dream, appeared again. This time, he was not afraid to talk to the cat anymore.

"Pussycat pussycat, where have you been?"

"I've been up to London to visit the Queen"

"Pussycat pussycat, what did you do there?"

"I frightened a little mouse, under her chair."

"I have been to London too."