Flight Into the Sky: A Journey Between Worlds

Flight Into the Sky: A Journey Between Worlds

By Ali

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What happens when the walls of reality dissolve?

A poetic short story exploring a man's metaphysical journey beyond the borders of sleep and time—into a celestial dimension where stars dance and silence sings. A tale of beauty, escape, and the painful return to a broken world.

The Story

He lay still upon his pillow, not yet asleep, not fully awake. His mind drifted like mist in the dusk, waiting patiently for sleep to take over and carry him into the unconscious. But this night—this one night—was different.

Without warning, the walls faded. The ceiling disappeared. The darkness that usually fell with closed eyes did not come.

Instead, there was... nothing.

And within that nothing, everything was born.

He felt no fear. No confusion. Only stillness. A serenity deeper than water, softer than silence. Then—like an arrow loosed from a divine bow—he rose.

He soared.

Upward, through unseen layers, past limits he never knew existed. And as he ascended, the world below shrank, melted, vanished. In its place: the stars. The planets. A boundless sky that welcomed him not as an intruder, but as one of its own.

The stars pulsed with light—changing shapes, shifting colors. They danced, not wildly, but gracefully, in circles and spirals, as if moving to a music only he could hear.

Yes, there was music.

It filled the space around him, entered his ears without sound, his soul without warning.

A celestial symphony—unlike anything on Earth.

The planets revolved around him, radiating kindness and warmth. Their surfaces were not cold and lifeless, but alive—glowing, morphing, breathing. They acknowledged him, greeted him. And he, the earthbound dreamer, drifted among them like a star reborn.

He lost all sense of time.

There was no before. No after.

Only now.

And then... gently, softly, without resistance—he returned.

He found himself back on his bed. The room was the same. The air was heavier.

The world had come back.

So had its burdens.

The peace he had touched now felt like a distant echo, already fading. Around him, the ordinary weight of life began to settle: the gnawing anxieties, the sharp edges of duty, the stray dogs in the alley, the cruelty of man, the violence of greed, the endless race for control. He had returned to a world of competition and conquest—where only the strong survive, and kindness is mistaken for weakness.

He opened his eyes fully.

He was here.

But not the same.

He had seen something beyond. Felt a truth no eye had seen, no ear had heard, no heart had fully imagined. He had touched a higher note.

And now?

He would carry that music within him—quietly, secretly, defiantly.

Because no matter how harsh the world becomes...

He had flown.

And he remembered.

"Not all dreams fade. Some become the fire we carry through the cold."