So many things lie out there, beyond the reach. Each hand reaches out to touch and to hold, hoping for the feel of some human warmth against the cold. Each eye opens, wanting to see the light of possibility pulling the day from the darkness. Each heart beats with the need to go on living against all the outrages an indifferent and unknowing universe ranges against it.
Each morning is a beginning made possible by the night before and the times that have gone by. All those times are gone now, out of reach of anything except fading imperfect memory.
All that remains of those times are the torn, battered notebooks Jenna filled with the stories of her days. Each day had a page to fill, and only a page. Each of the small cheap blue notebooks she used for a month only, and then added it to the pile.
There was a time when Jenna thought she would return to the notebooks, each page, with its date written small and neat in the top corner of the page, to revisit her life and all that had happened to her. But now, she does not have time for the past. She is too busy writing down the present, each day, to go back and see what has changed.
Back, in the beginning, it was all about the meals she ate, the people she met, the places she’d been to and the things she wanted or hoped for. Back then, the blue notebooks were about the facts of her life, the shape of the world that held her and the lives she moved though, her own and other people’s.
Then things began to change for Jenna, she began remembering her dreams, then she starting having those dreams more often. For a while, while those dreams lasted, she filled blue notebook after blue notebook with the dreams and the world they took her to. For a while – according to her notebooks – Jenna lived inside this dream world entirely. The blue notebooks contained nothing but the records of her nightly journeys through that dream world and the people she met there.
The dream world was a world not like this one. There Jenna was a ruler, an Empress, with kingdoms and lands and mighty Lords fighting to take her hand in marriage. There she had lovers and intrigue, and a whole world of possibilities made real by her dreams.
Then, one day, those dreams stopped, and, for a while, the blue notebooks went back to the ordinary, day to day, record of a life lived back in this world. A world dull grey and cold compared to that of the dream world.
Jenna, though, never missed that old dream world. It had taught her something about the power of dreams, just as those blue notebooks had taught her about the power of words. Now she was ready to move on, go to some new land never before dreamed of by anyone. Jenna knew she had all she needed to explore this new world.
She had her blue notebooks, the words and her imagination and Jenna knew that would be all she’d ever need.