You wake up in the middle of a grass valley.

There is no one around.

Above you, the sky is impossibly blue—no clouds, no birds, no planes. Only an endless sheet of color stretching from one horizon to another.

The wind runs through your ears.

Hhhhhhhhhhh.

You sit up.

In the distance, there is a smooth green hill. On the other side, a road cuts through the valley and disappears into white haze.

You do not remember how you got here.

“Hello?”

Your voice travels across the field.

Hello.

hello.

Then silence.

You begin walking toward the road.

The asphalt is warm. There are no cars, no footprints, no signs of anyone ever passing through. After some time, you find a bus stop standing alone beside the grass.

Its timetable shows only one destination:

HOME — 6:00 PM

You check your phone.

6:00 PM.

No signal.

Battery: 87%.

You wait.

No bus comes.

The sun does not move.

Eventually, you leave and climb the distant hill, hoping to see a town on the other side.

At the top, you stop.

Another valley stretches below.

The same grass.

The same road.

The same haze.

And in the middle of the field, someone is lying down.

You run toward them.

“Hey!”

The person sits up.

They are wearing your clothes.

They have your face.

Before you can speak, the world flickers.

For one second, the valley disappears.

You see a white room.

A locked door.

A screen displaying a blue sky.

Then the grass returns.

The other you is gone.

Your phone vibrates.

A message appears from an unknown sender:

SOCIAL CONTACT ALLOCATION: 0

Then another:

PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR ASSIGNED LANDSCAPE.

The screen goes black.

You stand alone beneath the perfect blue sky.

The wind runs through your ears again.

Hhhhhhhhhhh.

Then, faintly, from somewhere beyond the hill—

“Hello?”

You freeze.

Maybe it is an echo.

Maybe it is the system.

But you answer anyway.

“Hello?”

For a moment, there is only wind.

Then:

“I heard you.”

You begin walking toward the hill.

Behind you, the road disappears deeper into haze.

Ahead of you, someone may still be waiting.

And for the first time, the sky does not look endless.

It looks like a ceiling.

journal.

Where the Road Ends in Haze

Constellations