The Source Novels & Stories

In a feverish haze, I heard the doorbell ring. The delivery guy called out, "Delivery for Mr. Hendrick." I smiled as I took it from the delivery guy and thanked him. I was going to laugh at James for being childish. After all, before falling asleep, I had only mentioned that I had a fever. Yet he had already ordered medicine for me. However, when I opened the delivery bag and saw what was inside, my expression froze. Condoms and lubricant were right there in plain sight, and even the toy in my hand made my head spin. Just as I took out my phone, ready to demand an explanation from my husband, a text message suddenly popped up. "This is Sangland Resortworld. Dear Mr. Hendrick, we are de

"But the Source remains." A voice echoed from the depths. "The Source is not the dream. It is the memory of the dream. It is the echo of what was." I felt a chill run down my spine. "Who is speaking?" "I am the Source. I am the memory of the infinite. I am the echo of the Dreamer's voice." "You are still here? Even though the dream is over?" "I am here because you are here. You carry the memory. You carry the dream. As long as you live, the Source will remain."