[color=#000000
ost_uid0]Colored fragments of dreams began drifting from the sky like the first slow leaves of autumn. Curled up on the ground like a newborn child, John felt the weightless flakes descending upon him.
He didn't care. He was beyond caring; he was too tired to bother about what would happen to him next. There was no point, for he had realized that nothing he did could change a thing. Nothing in the world could free his fate from the puppet controls of whoever was writing the story. All he wanted was for consciousness to leave him alone so that peace could finally know him.
And in the silence, the shards of dreams continued falling.[/color
ost_uid0]