text: Prompt: A man gifts dreams in a world where people have forgotten how to dream. When I first heard about him, I thought he was a myth; like Big Foot or the Yeti. I didn’t think it was possible, not anymore anyway. We, the human race, lost our ability to dream back in the late 2050s when governments began approving the commercialization of “designer babies.” For the first time in human history, parents could choose specific DNA traits that they would want their children to inherit. Children grew up brighter, more athletic, beautiful and eventually more successful than children conceived through traditional insemination. In a world filled with perfect human beings, the poor couldn’t afford to compete and over time the world’s population shrank to a point where everyone had been created in a lab. We now possessed the richest pool of genetic material than ever studied before. However, by about the second or third generation people began forgetting how to dream. It took years for studies and research to effectively conclude that people were no longer able to dream. Scientists dully explained the connection between the neurons that are active during the REM phase while we were asleep and nucleotides in our DNA, which became repressed and extinct over time. It was similar to the theory behind natural selection. The damage was done; it seemed inconsequential to people back then, they didn’t need as much sleep as the generations before then. Large genetic corporations who essentially customized babies spun it as “evolution.” People had no choice but to move on. Decades flew by. Dreaming was a lost design and Oneirology a forgotten science; our brains could no longer build the framework we needed to dream.The world we grew up in dreaming was a fable, told to little kids to get them to sleep. My grandfather used to tell me stories when I was a young boy about his grandfather who like all humans at the time, could dream. He spoke of the limitless nature of dreams; of precognition, visions and anything you ever wanted. I was always fascinated by the idea even though I never completely understood it. It was hard for me to imagine what a dream was, but I used to wish that when I fell asleep that I would be magically whisked away into my world of imagination. As I grew up, desires of dreaming faded away over time when I met the love of my life. All I wanted to do was to be with this gorgeous woman who somehow loved me too. I wanted to spend every moment of life making her smile and watching her laugh. She lit up my life and we were inseparable. I knew early on that she would always be the best thing every happened to me, I guess I won the jackpot early. You don’t win the lottery twice.. We were so close to getting married when she passed away in car accident. They could barely identify her remains. I’m I could’ve saved her if I was there. There was a giant hole in my heart and I didn’t want to fill it. My life was never going to be the same. Everything I saw was grey; I didn’t want to meet people or work anymore. I only wanted to be with her, at least one last time to say goodbye. I just wanted to see her smile again. Dreams.. The one place I knew I’d find her. While conducting research on the last known man to have dreamt, I found out that there was a man who was still alive, but barely. Through some persistence I convinced Mr. Takahama’s children to let me interview him. He was a lot older and more frail that I had pictured. The backstory was that he, being one of the earlier generations of designer babies, he retained the ability to dream till he was a teen. Now, at 120 years he was the last of the fortunate. During his interview, he told me that he last dreamt a couple of years ago. I was shocked, but his children brushed it off as a sign of old age. He pulled me closer and whispered, “there is a man who goes by the Dreamer, seek him and you shall find your answers.” I chuckled at the suggestion but Mr. Takahama said this more sternly than anything he had all evening. I went looking for “the Dreamer” but most my leads were dead ends. I was mocked by my colleagues at the university. I was searching for a ghost, for a man who didn't want to be found. A few people had heard of him but no one knew anything about him for certain. I spent the better part of a year chasing a shadow. I was close to giving up, but I wanted to experience what it felt like to dream. Fortunately, a few days before I was about concede in defeat, the phone rang. The man, one of my leads, spoke hurriedly, “we found him, we found Aserinsky.” “Who?” I asked. “Eugene Aserinsky, the Dreamer. We’ve located him Vienna. You better fly out tonight. This is the last chance you’ll ever get." I was excited but I tried to keep my expectations in check. I had never been so close but every other lead had ended in disappointment. I barely slept a wink on the flight to Vienna, Austria. I had so many questions and thoughts spinning through my head. I prayed that answers awaited me. I made my way towards the Albertina, a historic museum built in the 17th century, to meet Aserinsky. My contact had told him that I had spent a significant portion of my life studying dreams and managed to convince him to meet me. I wasn’t sure what to expect. He looked the part; an elderly man worn down by time. His silverish hair resonated wisdom and his light brown eyes gleamed of visions unseen. He spoke with a certain charisma that few developed. It became immediately known to me that he was the one I pursued. “Do you know why I asked you to meet me here?” He spoke clearly but softly. “Not really, I know this museum stores some of the rarest paintings from the Renaissance period centuries ago.” I replied, hoping to impress him. “Exactly, these painters were considered to be visionaries, romantics, dreamers and philosophers. This time period had a huge impact on human culture; the arts, science and the humanities. I’ve had dreams where I’m lost in this beauty.” “Dreams.. Do you dream?” I asked nervously. “Yes, I do dream. A long time ago, I discovered I had a gift for being able to dream and that I could give others the ability to dream. Our brains are no longer as capable of processing REM as decades ago, so the few men who I gave my ability to, eventually killed themselves because they couldn't distinguish a dream from reality. Why do you wish to dream so desperately?” “I wish to be with the one person who completed me. She was taken away from me and I would do anything to be with her again.”, I reasoned. “I must warn you that dreams are powerful; they are as real in your minds as life around you. You may die from your brain being unable to process the nerve impulse transmissions.The sad part would be that your mind wouldn’t know the difference between a dream and death.” Confidently I replied, “Yes, I understand the risks.” The next thing I remember is falling asleep in my bed, floating away in a timeless time where my soul escaped into a life that wasn’t my own. I didn’t know if I was dreaming or dead but I saw her. She looked as gorgeous as ever. Even if it was death, I found some solace in knowing that I would finally be with her.