Dream Sequence #2

It is dark. And there is no sound.I know they are nearby, I can feel them, but I cannot see or hear them.They are talking amongst themselves, not audibly, but talking. I look past where they should be, and stare in to an invisible horizon. There is lightening in the air, an energy bolting from particle to particle, enlivening all it passes through. A wave of tension passes through, and it begins to unravel.
There is a sunrise, beautiful and majestic. The sun is blue, almost icy in the sky, rising hastily over the black world. Soon I see them, the people standing talking, going about their lives absently. They wave to me, greet me and observe me as they go about their business. The street has changed, it has become something more historic. There is sophistication in its stones and settings. I feel uncomfortable here, as if I am not welcome. I cross the street to a small fountain, a winged cherubim spits a deep red wine in to a stone bowl below. A woman tells me not to drink it, that the wine is not clean. Her voice does not shift, though she still does not have a face. I am fearful of her, afraid of her severity. I do not drink the wine, but instead find my gaze stolen by the mirrored tiling surrounding the cherub. My face changes constantly, the eyes retain no colour for more than a second, the lips break away and shift between size and shape. My skin maintains some of its natural tone, though I see patches of tanning and bleaching appearing across my portrait. My forehead wrinkles and creases, then draws taught across my skull sporadically. I look around me, the people of the street are gone and I am standing alone. The glacial star is sinking from sight, and a deep chill grips me. I feel sick, physically, and look at my hands for control. There is something missing, though I cannot tell what it is.I feel myself slipping from the dream, and as I wake I hear their voices once again, in a language that I do not know.But they are telling me to change.