I was in my bedroom lying in my bed, seeing myself from third person. I knew from the beginning that I was dreaming, but I had no control over my body. Suddenly, I realize that someone is speaking to me telepathically. It's my history teacher, Mr. Leight, talking to me inside my mind (while inside my dream, ha). He tells me that I need to get to him as soon as possible, that he has something wondrous to show me, something neither I or the students could ever illustrate for him, something that he could never teach us. So I rush over to where he is. Surprisingly, he is in my living room, so I literally only had to take five steps out of my room! But something is off with my living room. Everything seems to be wet, and there is the huge green plant that looks like a grapevine covering the walls of my house. The color of the plant, is much more lush than anything I had ever seen, and it had buds on it, almost like tulips that hadn't yet opened. And also, the plant was just bursting with water and, somehow I knew, that it was bursting with life. I look for Mr. Leight. He is standing in a lone chair next to my chimney looking at the odd plant with fascination. He tells me to come closer, his voice trembling with excitement, he tells me to wait a while, as the plant is about to do what he wants to show me. I look at the plant, and one of the buds burst open, with a magnificent sparkling mist shining around it, and a beautiful yellow flower is revealed.
Mr. Leight tells me that this is what he always wanted to teach me, but never could, the beauty of a single moment, the fleeting life. The evanescence of it all.
Them I black out for two or three seconds. When I open my eyes, all I see is that the once beautiful plant covering every corner of my living room, has literally gone from the lushest green I had ever seen, to the color of burned bark from a tree. My face felt dry as everything started to turn into dust and whither away.
Then I woke up.
Later, in the afternoon, my mom told me to throw away the tulips I had received from my graduation, for we had placed them as a centerpiece in the dining table, but according to my mom, they were already "too ugly" to be kept inside.
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"All I know, is that I know nothing." - Socrates