Microfiction: Dream of Tar

Every night I see a pit of bubbling black. It is a brief dream, and I am standing above it, looking down. It pops and the air escaping makes words in languages I’ve never heard. I spend each morning researching them, trying to understand what they mean.

But it never goes anywhere, and I never solve the mystery.

That was until one day, when, by my error, I put a large safe through the floor. Or rather, in carrying it, then dropping it, I collapsed my floor.

And then I saw it. The bubbling pit of my dreams. This seemingly endless underground landscape. A thing of strange, otherworldly beauty.

So of course I sold the oil deposit under my property for billions.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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