Just giving lineless a try and trying to remember something
*Leaning against the purple-hued walls of a rather large caravans interior, I fumbled around trying to open the letter. Whoever had sealed it would've been better making it a present as its white paper bulged and folded irregularly. I managed to get a grip at its top, sliding my finger along it to tear the fold. While tipping the letter-parcel upsidown to gather its content I heard a faint jingling sound emitting from it. A small, leather, camouflauged wallet slid out onto my hand, filled with 2p's. Along with it was a note written on the smallest piece of paper I had ever seen. I placed the wallet along with the letter against the shelf I leaned besides. The notes handwriting was to small too make out every word, yet I could still read a couple.
"Good- L- Hope- Stay- Safe- From- Sir- Company-" The note read.
I turned it over in my hand a few times, examining the sheer size of the handwriting. Then, with a heavy sigh, I looked to my left towards the boxes upon boxes stacked in the corner. All full of toys and- No, not toys, friends. And I was sure this would be the last time I would remember them.*
The real reason I drew this is so I don't forget. In my past, at ages I also cannot remember, I've had dreams about going to a holiday resort full of dream-like wonder. Rollercoaster restaurants, coconuts, a month of no crime, my friends chasing someone in pink underwear, toys around the caravan coming to life, my brother and I actually enjoying each other's company for once.
Sir, as mentioned in the story above by the note, I can't remember who he was. I can't remember who any of them were, really. But I just know I've been to this place before in my sleep; and it was one of the most wonderful dreams I've had. I didn't want to forget it.
In said dream, after I received the note, it became somewhat lucid. What I do remember is thinking and imagining in my dream, that later that night I would be sat up in my bed crying. That day in the resort was my last day before I'd go home. I walked outside, back to the restaurant and mucked around. Then I went back to the caravan while it was still sunset to find my brother. I asked him if, for one last time, he'd like to walk around with me. Then I woke up with the dream already fading. And I sat up in my bed, crying.

























