When the world came to an end and I didn't know where to go.

It all happened all so sudden. My mind was traveling somewhere at it's usual straits, and I wasn't really focused on anything. It felt good and it was so much more real than my real life.

I remember when the flying dog came to visit me, his voice so clear and pure. I loved his voice. I always wanted a dog with such a lean and smooth voice. He told me how to fly and survive in the wild. There was a certain trick he said, it was not so much about remembering which herbs to eat and which not to, it was rather a question of attitude. He also told me that dogs like him were not meant to be owned. I asked him why that was the case but he never answered. Instead he just grinned and flew away like he never existed.

Once and a while I think about the time when the dog used to visit me more frequently. It makes me cry. I haven't seen him in ages and I don't think I ever will see him again.

He never even told me his name.