A blanket of smog covered the city, as the cars below were bescumbering exhaust that clouded the streets. It was 3:00 PM and the lugubrious pollution masked the sunlight turning every day to night. The only source of light was from neon billboards illuminating the crowded streets. Drops of rain started pelting the roof of the yellow taxi, gradually increasing in tempo until the rain was carpet bombing the streets. The rain peeled the yellow paint off the taxi smearing it down the side of the window. Sitting in the back seat of the taxi was a man in his early 30’s staring out the stained window. The crowd on the sidewalk quickly dispersed running to cover from the onslaught of rain.


    The taxi pulled away from traffic and stopped at the side of the road. Without saying a word the man in the back departed from the taxi and quickly ran inside of a tall skinny concrete apartment building. The man walked up to the front desk flashing his apartment access card. The old lady positioned at the front desk glanced away from her phone to glare at the card.


    “Elijah Ridge?” asked the old lady in a monotone.


    “That''s correct,” Elijah replied, sliding the card back into his wallet.


    “You''re free to go,” she said, slapping a button on the desk, Elijah yanked on the adjacent door but it would not budge. The old lady sighed and this time slammed on the button, the door clicked open and Elijah stepped into the hallway closing the door behind him. The apartment hallway had a thick musty atmosphere festering a migraine for who ever traversed through it. Elijah speed walked to the stairs, making his way to the fourth story of the apartment building. His pace slowed as he approached Apartment 4328. Elijah knocked on the door, shortly after a man in his early twenties stepped out. He looked and smelled like a 70s hippy sporting an unkempt beard that connected to his greasy hair and a blue bandana wrapped around his forehead. He wore a white button up with food stains on his jeans.


    “Got anything new?” Elijah asked


    “I wish,” The man scoffed. “Cartridges are now being installed with new anti-piracy software. I now have to manually lobotomize the code then re-render it. Gonna be awhile before I got anything on the market.” he said.


    “I will buy anything” Elijah asserted, the man paused he glanced behind him than turned back to ElijahDid you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    “I got some stuff from an indie Dream Weaver: Nomadness, ever heard of him?” He asked.


    “Not familiar with his work no,” Elijah responded


    “He is an artist type, weaving together abstract experiences that you won’t find in your average Dream Weave.”


    “I will take it,” Elijah said. The man stepped away from the doorway, and returned with a plastic square cartridge with a lip of copper. Written in sharpie on the flat part of the plastic said ‘Created By Nomadness.’ Elijah pulled a 20 dollar bill and traded it for the cartridge. “What''s it about?”


    “Don’t know, never tried it, let me know what you think of it when you do.”


    “Yeah I''ll let you know,” said Elijah, stuffing the cartridge into his pocket walking away from the door.


    Elijah arrived at his apartment unlocking the door with his magnetic key, he slid inside shutting the door behind him. The neon lights poured through the slits of the window. Elijah quickly removed his work clothes and flopped onto his mattress. A 13 inch by 13 inch by 4 inch console lay on the nightstand. It had 2 wires poking out of it, one that plugged into the surge protector and the other that attached to a cloth beanie with an attached eye mask. Elijah ejected the cartridge currently inside of the device replacing it with the new one, he placed the old cartridge on a book shelf at the foot of the bed. The bookstand was filled with cartridges similar to the one he just bought. The only difference is that they had an official plastic sticker on the flat part of the cartridge that had the title of the Dream Weave, and credit to the Dream Weaver. The different shelfs were organized by type. The top two shelves were for adventure Dream Weaves, like cowboy adventure, space bounty hunter, Samurai Ninja, and espionage. The middle shelf was for life-like Dream Weaves that are supplements for reality, the second to last shelf was movies transformed into Dream Weaves, and the bottom shelf contained Weaves of pure decadence. Elijah was a glutton for the Dream Weave, he has experienced every single Weave he could get his hands on. However, he has never done an indie street weave before, normally all weaves go through extensive testing so they don’t damage the brain; indie weaves can take you places no regulated weave can but aren’t guaranteed to be safe.


    Elijah placed the cartridge in the console, then positioned himself in a comfortable position before placing the cloth beanie and eye mask over his head and eyes. Elijah lived for the Dream Weave, it was his only escape. As the explosion of technological enhancement made the sound of life so loud, no one wanted to have a moment of quiet. Elijah laid in his bed drifting away his eye movement began ceasing then his muscles started to contract. His mind slipped from consciousness entering into a deep sleep.