The time stops
When a dream recurs repeatedly that you have to turn it into reality to get rid of it.
An old man, sitting in the mountain by a cave entrance, points to it, “go inside!”
I see a lock of white hair, get a string and go into the cave.
I keep going and going …
There is nothing but darkness and hair twisted in my hands, something appears.
Old woman with white hair.
She looks back at me with blue eyes in her white face.
The time stops…