“If I catch you, you’ll never wake up,” he whispers

by Azarin Sadegh

It’s a dazzling summer morning. The breeze moves the shining waves of sun with care. Foreign birds fly in the sky with harmony.

A masked man is trailing me through the orange trees of my childhood memories.

The green leaves touch my face and juicy oranges drop over my head. The branches scratch my skin and the pain spreads its path through my veins.

I run and I don’t look back.

The heavy breathing of the faceless man overshadows the happiness of the wind, and the diffuseness of a fading moon enlightens my way. Like in a dream, in a blink of an eye, I grow tall and strong, capable of pushing away branches and trunks and leaving their imposing path. Like the imaginary Deev of legends and tales, I crush trees under my toes, knowing I’d reach the birds, if I want to.

“We’re almost there,” the small man murmurs. He’s now running after me as if he has never been hopeless.

“If you catch me, I’ll wake up,” I shout back.

“If I catch you, you’ll never wake up,” he whispers.

Similar to my previous dreams, a wooden ladder appears at the crossroad between contentment and disaster. It rises in the sky with no beginning, no end. I run towards its delicate steps, while rootless birds look up to me. I rush to reach unseen clouds - to hide inside their momentary shape - but as I take my last step, the old wood crack and the stair falls apart and the screams of anxious birds break the silence of reddening sky. The stairway collapses under my foot, to fail me again, to thrust my being into the hollow of an infinite abyss.

In my descend, I always wonder whether the next time my anonymous stalker - that mysterious little man with a blank face -- would achieve his unreasonable desire by finally catching me, by pulling my hair back, by pushing his sharp nails into my soft throat, to wake me up at last, to save me from this never ending fall.


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Azarin Sadegh

Thanks Nilofar!

by Azarin Sadegh on

Thanks a lot for your nice feedback!

I like very much the idea of a novel composed of "postcard" stories as you call them.

Actually, in some way, my novel-in-progress is also made of short scenes (each of them are pretty independant story/scenes), but to say that this story is just "perfect"...Oh My! I know that I have a long long way to go before getting there...after all nothing is perfect! 

Still, Thank you!



You rock

by نیلوفر (not verified) on

Congratulations! This piece and your last one about lily flower show a great jump in your writing. I agree with Azadeh about the last one, that the beginning should be cut to a small paragraph. This one, though, is just perfect.

I think you have found your style, which to me, looks like a postcard story with the structure of a fairy-tale or fable written in a tight, poetic language. I suggest you to write a novel made from postcard stories, if you want to go that way and become a novelist.

Best regards and good luck,

Azarin Sadegh


by Azarin Sadegh on

Wow...what a wonderful third solution Nazy Jan!

I love so much your natural sense of optimism my dear! You always manage to find something positive even in the worst of situations...

Plus, I love this poem! I think from now on -next time i have this nightmare-I'll just grow wings and fly to safety...

Love, Azarin 

Nazy Kaviani

The 3rd Option

by Nazy Kaviani on

I am big
I am tall
I am strong

You are fast
You are nimble
You are vicious

I run,
You follow
I hide,
You seek
I scream,
You laugh

You are my demon
You are my fear
You are my hurt

I turn around
And see you
I stand
And tower over you

I need no roads
I need no ladders
I need no saviors

For I have seen you
And you are small

And my shoulders hurt
Where I grow wings
To fly to safety.

ebi amirhosseini

Azarin Jaan

by ebi amirhosseini on

Sweet dream?!



Orang Gholikhani

Nice dream

by Orang Gholikhani on

Nice story.

Azarin jan, Pour tes rêves ce lien peut t'aider ;-)


L'echelle est pas mal !




by Zion on

Could be the plot of the next David Lynch movie!


Azarin jaan

by Feshangi on

I enjoyed reading your story.

We all seem to have our demonic dreams that follow us to our adulthood. I hope yours will never catch up with you. 



Azarin Sadegh


by Azarin Sadegh on

Actually I have to say that this short short story is not all fiction, if we distinguish fiction from our dreams and nightmares.

This one is (almost) one of my old nightmares which used to mess up my peaceful childhood. Of course the ending is pure fiction, as I used to wake up right at the moment when the ladder breaks.

Thanks! Azarin