This story is written for Thursday Tales and the fourth day of Christmas: Four Calling Birds. The accompanying photo is by Preetilata at White Window.
When Salvador dreamed, the world of noise, car horns, and traffic receded from memory. A quiet darkness washed over him like spilled ink. He drifted in his chair and heard the rain cascade against his window. His eyes dropped low like the sun setting deep.
A dream slowly kindled within him, flickering like a white moon in the night. Four, silvery shadows drew tantalizingly near him. Dancing, their arms circled above like wings. Their hair strung together in a collective symphony. Four calling birds nestled softly beside him. Perched on either sides of his arms, he gathered in speed and flight. He could drift to the farthest depths of the universe. He could swim amongst the stars and drink in the galaxies.
A knock at the door woke him amidst the glare of the streetlight. Car horns honked mercilessly and traffic snaked along wet pavement. The rainstorm had exhaled into the night of purple haze. He had hoped the dream would never end.