Translated from RU
I wake up in a field of golden ears of wheat. The wind moves them in waves, and every rustle sounds like a whisper of my name.
In the distance stands a tree with white leaves. They shimmer as if made of glass.
I approach closer and see engraved on the bark a clock, but instead of numbers, there are phases of the moon.
With each passing second, the leaves begin to fall, transforming into tiny fireflies.
They rise into the sky, forming a constellation above the tree.
I look up and realize that the stars are shaping into the outline of a door.
I take a step forward — and find myself inside the light.
