Chapter 35

Darkness. A samurai sword slices through the air. A familiar face. An intense orgasm. Standing in an open field. Sunlight.

*~~*

Edward jumped up from his bedroll, shaking and sweating. He stood nearly naked, only a set of cotton boxers, as the sun beat through the arms of trees onto the basement floor.
“Holy fuck,” whispered Edward.
He walked out of the basement onto the grass, letting his bare feet glide through the dew covered blades. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked up into the sky. The morning breeze rustled through the bushes around him as he spotted a fallen tree close to the basement to take a seat on. He took a small surface pen from his boxers and clicked it three times. Touching it to the cotton shorts they shifted quickly into a set of brown pants, a beaten blue and white striped button-up, and a dusty brown vest.
Edward took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with the silver lighter procured from his newly formed vest. He sat in the early morning for several hours, smoking and wondering just what the hell was happening to him.

*~~*

Witticker rustled from his sleep. He had slept in clothes which were now a bit soggy, but still mildly bearable. He sat up, noticing that Edward was outside the concrete shell, baking in the morning sun.
“Sleep well?” asked Witticker groggily.
“No,” answered Edward dimly from his tree throne, “Emphatically no.”
Edward blew a puff of smoke into the air and placed the cigarette into the crook of his mouth. Witticker walked out to Edward’s tree and sat next to him, hunched on his knees.
“So, why do you change your clothes so often? You never wear the same thing for more than a day.”
Edward shot him a sideways glance and looked back up into the sky.
“Before people started wearing clothes things were a lot simpler. People were concerned with food and shelter. That was it. You woke up in the morning and started looking for both of those things. Day in, day out.”
Edward took a drag and flicked his cigarette butt in the dirt. He pulled his leg from the its resting position and squashed the small ember beneath his boot.
“Then people started finding both of those things before mid-day and they had some time on their hands. It became about wants instead of needs. Fast-forward several centuries. I now have both food and shelter. I can take time to think about what I’m going to wear each day. I change clothes to reflect who I am.”
“But without those clothes aren’t you still you? What do the clothes reflect if not simply themselves?”
“This world is full of paradoxes, Witticker,” began Edward, hopping up from his seat, “We generally agree that you shouldn’t take a man on surface value alone, but most people agree that ‘the clothes make the man’. There are centuries of social constructs floating around in here,” said Edward as he pointed to his head. “Dogs always turn circles before they lie down to sleep. Did you ever wonder why?”
“I never had a dog.”
“Nevermind that. They do turn circles and they do because centuries ago their ancestors lived in tall grass and they had to turn circles to mat it down for a place to sleep. Now a dog will turn circles in the desert before it lays down to rest. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense. We do it because it’s inside of us and that’s what’s real.”
Witticker scratched his head and looked up into the sun on its way up towards the top of the sky. He took out his surface pen and clicked it three times. Hesitantly he touched his soggy clothes which promptly changed into a loose pair of blue jeans and a thick white button-up left undone by the top few buttons.
“You know,” started Edward, wandering off from the log bench, “I think I may have had one of those dream things.”
Witticker turned towards him, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Last night you said you never had one and now you think you have? What brought this on?”
“I hadn’t had one until last night. Nothing brought it on. I just think I had one last night.”
Edward pulled another cigarette out and began to light it.
“Well, what was it about?” asked Witticker.
“Not really sure,” said Edward, putting his lighter away in his vest pocket, “just a string of events leading nowhere. Is there something you’re supposed to see?”
“No, not really. It’s just what’s in your head I guess.”
“Well, I saw a lot of different things. Things from my past. And I ended up in this field full of flowers. It was so beautiful. I was running through the field. Just running as fast as I could and it felt great. I felt everything. The wind, the feeling of flowers as I rushed by, the sun on my body. It was amazing. But…nothing is different now…is it? Is something supposed to be different with dreams?”
Witticker thought for a long time about his own dreams. He thought about what he saw and the way it made him feel. He didn’t feel amazing. He felt alone, isolated. It was an unanswered question. A infinite remainder.
“I don’t know. Everybody uses their experiences differently. Just take from it what you can.”
Edward looked back up into the sky. A cloud floated overhead, blocking the sun for a short while.
“Sounds good. Well, it’s time to keep moving. Looks like we’re walking for a while and after that last little tangle we’ll take the back-way. I’m not sure if that guy was after me or you, but it would be best not to chance it. You ready?”
Witticker nodded. The two men gathered their belongings and headed off into the woods.