What would you do if you lost all your possessions?
It happened in a dreamβor at least, thatβs what I told myself when I first opened my eyes. My room was empty. No bed, no clothes, no books. Even my favorite mug, the one with the chipped rim and coffee stains, was gone. The walls echoed with a strange silence I had never heard before.
For a moment, panic gripped me. How could everything I owned simply vanish? My phone wasnβt there to call anyone. My wallet, my keys, my memoriesβeverything tied to βmeβ had disappeared overnight.
I stepped outside, expecting the world to notice my loss. But people passed by, headphones in, eyes glued to their screens. No one knew. No one cared.
So I walked. Barefoot, confused, yet strangelyβ¦ lighter. With nothing to carry, there was nothing to lose. I started noticing things I had forgotten long agoβthe warmth of sunlight on my face, the rhythm of my breath, the scent of wet earth after rain.
By noon, I found a small tea stall. The owner smiled, poured me a cup, and said, βPay later.β I sat there, sipping, realizing that kindness doesnβt vanish with possessions.
Over the next few days, I discovered how little I truly needed. Shelter could be borrowed, clothes could be gifted, and food could be shared. What couldnβt be replaced were the invisible possessionsβmemories, love, courage, hope. Those lived within me, untouched by loss.
When I finally woke up (or maybe I returned to the world of things), I looked around my familiar room. Everything was backβyet somehow, I felt changed. I no longer feared losing my possessions, because I had found something greater: myself.
ππππππππ πππ 
Leave a comment