The first time it happened, Graham dismissed it as Deja Vu. A strangely vivid dream of walking down Main Street, past the old bookstore, where a woman in a red coat would drop her coffee. The next afternoon, it unfolded exactly as he had seen it.

By the third night, the dreams no longer felt like dreams. They were memories, memories of days he had yet to live. He watched his boss promote him before it happened, saw a car accident unfold in detail before he had a chance to stop it. But there was a pattern, a disquieting thread that wove itself through every night. Each dream showed a day further in the past, not the future. It was as though his life was unraveling in reverse, night by night.

At first, he tried to use it to his advantage, altering the course of minor events. He stopped a barista from slipping on spilled milk, saved a stray dog from being hit by a car. But as his dreams dragged him deeper into his past, the sense of helplessness grew. He was dreaming of moments long gone, arguments with his father, his mother’s funeral, the first time he met the woman he would love. He couldn’t change those. He could only relive them.

The horror settled in when he realized there was no stopping it. Every morning, he woke knowing less of what was to come. Every night, he dreamed of a yesterday slipping further from his grasp. His future was his past, and his past was all he had left. What happened when he reached the beginning? Would he dream of his birth? Would he slip away into nothingness?

The nights became suffocating. His waking hours filled with dread, his grip on reality fraying. He would reach for his phone to check the date, only to recoil in terror at the knowledge that it no longer mattered. Conversations felt foreign, friends referencing things he hadn’t done yet, loved ones growing distant as his connection to their shared history faded. He was becoming a stranger in his own life, a man unmoored in time.

Then came the final night. A crib, a mobile spinning gently overhead, the muffled voices of his parents cooing from above. A sudden, crushing understanding that this was the last moment he would ever experience. His thoughts were no longer coherent, just colors, warmth, the rhythmic beating of a heart nearby. And just as he felt himself dissolving into the soft haze of infancy, he understood: he had been dreaming in reverse all along. And now, there were no more dreams left to dream.

The Man Who Dreamed in Reverse 

Each night, a man dreams of a day he hasn't lived yet.

The first time it happened, Graham dismissed it as Deja Vu. A strangely vivid dream of walking down Main Street, past the old bookstore, where a woman in a red coat would drop her coffee. The next afternoon, it unfolded exactly as he had seen it.



The Man Who Dreamed in Reverse

Each night, a man dreams of a day he hasn't lived yet.

About the Creator

Cai Fox

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