It arrived as expected, the break of dawn, and Dariel would soon do so to his workshop for another day of hustle and bustle. I was early, and I could be nowhere near there when he came in, so I thought about advancing some of the day`s work. Contrary to the best practices, Dariel liked to clean before the work day started, instead of after. This meant there was a lot of things that I could do. Swiping the place alone was a simple, yet daunting task for a dream.

　　The sawdust liked to gather in the corners, around the legs of the furniture, duck to a lighthouse made of bread, scholars to the bad metaphors of a man that doesn`t exist. (See, friend? I can joke just as you do.)

　　The broom was old, battered, screaming out loud for a replacement. The same broom that, the last time I had used it, was brand new. I yelled and slammed the damn thing against the floor once and again. More than four years! Fifteen hundred days, at least. A broom was bound to be not the only thing affected by the flow of time. What else? Which single items had perished or decayed in my absence. The world I knew had shifted as we dreams do: Sharply, with disregard for the continuity things are supposed to have, without asking.

　　I threw the broom aside and decided to gather the sawdust on my palm. I watched it and began counting. Thirty-seven seconds after beginning, half of the sawdust on my hand had gone through it and fallen to the floor. A palm of a man would have contained it all. But I shifted slightly without noticing, or I left existence for instants so small to be seen, and dust wasted no chance to escape. I fell on my knees upon the floorboards, and it was painless for me.

　　"I want hands that touch, I want a body that gets hurt. I want to take the clock hands and force them back. I want & I want the life Terus had." I lamented, curling on the floor.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

　　I don`t know how much later, but I heard the key turned in the main door and, with the few crumbs of dignity I had left, I stood. I sat down again when I saw it wasn`t Dariel, but the perplexed boy that he had taken under his wing.

　　"Hello, Selus."

　　"Hi, sir Terus. How did you get in?" He asked, in a tone way calmer than the other day.

　　"I willed myself here, as always." He seemed to have lost all the fears it had fostered the other day.

　　He took a seat by the worktable and observed me as if I were some strange thing. "Dariel& elaborated about your nature, sir Terus. He said you are cursed by a dragon or something, and thus move like that, but you are not a bad guy. He says you behave weirdly but inoffensively."

　　He extended a friendly hand, and I stretched it.

　　"Damned to meet you, Selus. As sad as it may be, I cannot become your acquaintance. I will outlive every man that currently draws breath. I bear a dragon`s lifespan."

　　"He didn`t tell me you were a grumpy one," he said with a playful smirk. "Dariel is not coming today, and I will just take orders from customers in his stead. So, is there any way I can help you?"

　　"May I know why is Dariel not coming today?"

　　"Since when do you live in this city?" He laughed, slapped me in the shoulder, and then, when he saw my expression didn`t change, he awkwardly proceeded to explain. "I guess you only come as a tourist. Today is the monthly visit of the Avian Mistress. Dariel accompanies Orphela when she goes to pay tribute. For her safety, he says. But what can he do against a dragon?" he raised his open hands and shrugged in a mocking way.

　　I grunted out of frustration.

　　"Where are they? I have a strong suspicion that we, this mistress and I, are fire of the same pyre."

　　The boy forced air through his lips, making a sound similar to a deflating balloon. "What can you do against a dragon?" he scoffed.

　　"I speak their tongue, I lived their battles, I suffer their curse. The real question would be: what can`t I do for a dragon?"

　　He crossed his arms and extended a finger to point at me. "She will kill you if you make her mad."

　　"Nothing she hasn`t done before, then. See you later, Selus, one the size of Mardhaka cannot hide, not even in this city."