when does fiction become important? be it fiction, or imagination, or the alternative worlds we all secretly keep under the pillow of our dreams… be it the only moonlit path left, or the last breathing instant before the Providence finally takes us, or the illusions painted with childish memories in musical colors of rain & wind & full moon & sorrow & sweet sex & solitude & wet puppies & toy cars & showers with dad & smiles & smiles & smiles, always smiles… what if fiction was real? what if it’s as real as it was back that night? well, that night many of us had hanged out all day long, till it became a two buddies’ night. he’s a nice bud. looks young, but acts like an old man… kinda hot, ‘coz he’s like a wise old man. it’s tough to find one like that these days… isn’t it? we got to his place & everything was dark, dark & mysterious. it was dark as Heaven. all we could see was stars. he kept a special garden, garden? it was wilderness in the midst of deadland, wilderness better than a thousand sweet homes… & it was alive! he smiled & smiled & smiled & smiled, always smiled, while he showed me around… an upstairs bedroom, his, was gonna be our place to ease our minds that night. what a simple place, gotta say. looking at him getting stuff done for me was like watching a priest getting stuff done for the main Father… he prepared a place next to his bed, on the floor. i thought it’d be cold down there, but those old blankets & a long-lasting conversation prior to slumber made me feel even better than chez moi. Why? i felt truly happy then. i couldn’t help to notice my buddy’s figure on his bed. it was just amazing, he was just amazing, his voice was just amazing. i wasn’t any cold. i wasn’t any cold. at some point in the night, he rushed towards me, like a poor old boy looking for a dad’s sincere hug. he was under my blankets and my warmth and his were one. his head was on my chest & he hold me tight, like no one else has done before. at that very moment i felt i was truly alive. blue skies are part of this ephemeral season in deadland. that sky was the first thing i felt once i woke up. my buddy wasn’t in the room, he was making breakfast. after so many years, i finally slept, & dreamed.