A jump in time

So… this is a jump, this is the fourth part in my short story collection, I’m working on the third one.

(Before edit)
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004 tonight I dreamt.

I had a dream last night, a dream I’ve never had before and I’ve never seen anything like it. It was vivid, the colors were saturated like neon in a very highlighted photograph. It was like all the lights and sounds hit me with such strength my head hurt and my thoughts got messy. The dream itself wasn’t too special, it was short, consist and still very clear in my mind as I woke up. I saw, a young woman, the back of a young woman. She wasn’t short or tall, but she had long, light hair. The sun shone through it and mirrored a thousands of golden hues through her locks as if they were made of glass. I couldn’t see her face. She was wearing a coat, thin but with a certain resistance of cold winds. It was deep red, made of wool and with long sleeves. She was wearing black gloves and in her hand, she held the tiny hand of a small child. The child walked hastily beside her. Looking forward and from what I heard of it: she was singing a song. Or… more like humming a melody, light notes that sometimes hit wrong and her neat voice sprung up in falsetto. She was wearing a light green coat, similar to the woman’s, her hair was just as filled with the glittering lights of the imaginary sun, but with a tone of red-ish brown spreading along the tips of her hair. When I woke up I was crying, but I did not know why. I stayed in bed long after I’d woken, staring into the wall and listening to the sound of the rain falling on my windowsill. I didn’t get up until after noon. The rain stopped falling and the sun came out. I noticed that there was nothing to eat anywhere in the small apartment, and thus I threw on my jacket and shuffled outside. While I, in a dazed hurry, ran across the street as the light turned red, I caught sight of something in the corner of my eye. As I turned around I stopped, and all sounds but one became silent to me. It took about two seconds until I noticed I had been hit by a racing car, and another three or four second until I understood that I had died.
I still remember that sound, the last sound I heard before I and all I was sunk into oblivion: the sound of a little girl humming on an unknown melody, her voice not mature enough to hit all the notes right and thus she quieted wherever she was not capable of singing, and her mother, turning to her and with a smile on her face telling her that “you sing beautifully, what is that song?”

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