ADAM COULD feel the heat. Strong and furious. Never had a desert—dry, hot, and sandy, surrounded him. He could not see much farther than the winding dunes of sand. There was nothing but the smouldering sun. He gulped and tried to moisten his tongue. His saliva became thicker like wallpaper paste, as if his body refused to produce it. He scrambled towards the sun to look for a way out, there was no end to it—just dry, hot sand everywhere.
Suddenly, he saw a hut; a small bright structure, right in front of him. A soft, long lost smile cracked his face. Nothing that felt this perfect could be wrong. It just couldn’t. He wasn’t feeling tired or thirsty anymore—the mere sight of the hut made him energetic and strong.
He walked to the door of the small hut made of wood,painted white, with engraved flowers. The doorknob – a big round flower. A daisy. It creaked open before he could even reach the knob. A fresh breeze came from inside, and he smelled the pleasant scent.
He found it empty except for a table in the centre of the room. The walls were bare and there were no windows. An invisible force pulled him towards the table; on it was a book — of which a bright light shone out, a light so strong that it blinded him; calling him, daring him to touch it. He reached towards it…
…and…
Something slimy and sticky blocked his view. He struggled to get rid of it and brushed his hands over his face. It oozed over his eyes and mouth, crawling into his pores. He opened his eyes and saw Wild licking his face off. Shivering and all wet with sweat Adam found himself on his bed. Bright sunlight streamed in through the large windows in his room, although the sun was just above the horizon yet it could peek through the windows of his penthouse. He stayed still for a few minutes, musing on the dream.
“That was only a dream, Wild.” Adam patted his dog, “and I’ll be late if I don’t get up,” He said while getting out of the bed and glancing at his watch; it was past seven o’clock in the morning, and he had a nine o’clock meeting with his lawyer; the purpose of which he could not understand.
“Meet me tomorrow at my office. It’s urgent,” the lawyer had said the day before.
“What’s the urgency, Mark? I don’t seem to have any legal issues. Or do I? That I don’t know?” He inquired.
“Well, look, Adam, it’s complicated! I can’t tell you on the phone. I have to meet you in person.”
The lawyer, his childhood friend, Mark Evince—the son of his father’s friend, and his family lawyer Evince Anderson; the only person in this world whom his father trusted. Adam’s father, David, had worked from his home office, being a single parent, he had to run the company and take care of his only son all at the same time. David had always been busy making money. His mother — well, he had never seen her in his life. How could he — she died before Adam took his first breath. He always wondered what his mother would be like and how life would have been with her around, caring for him, listening to his stories, giving him a shoulder to cry on. Then after his father left him alone, he had stopped thinking about them and engrossed himself in his own life, leaving the relations behind. Working for himself. Living for himself.
“Here you go.”
Adam gave Wild his breakfast and walked towards the door. The dog yelped and munched. As soon as he opened the door, right in front of him stood the girl who called herself Anna. She lived one storey below, always coming by, willing to provide help, letting herself in, and making his life a lot more vexatious.
“Hi, I’ve brought fresh homemade waffles. I gathered you’d like’em,” Anna said.
Exasperated, he took the platter and without saying a word, slammed the door in her face. He went inside and without even taking a glance at the tray he tossed it into the bin. He turned and let his eyes slide across the reflection of his cold, uncaring self.

To be Continued!

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