The City of Dreams

This story, like all good ones, begins with "once upon a time."

Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a mysterious, magical, and
legendary city known as the City of Dreams. It was called that because, within its
walls, any desire could come true. Did you dream of being an astronaut, owning a
five-story mansion, or traveling to the moon? In this city, the impossible ceased to
be.

The lines to get in were an endless river of people eager to cross its gates. People
from all over the world and of all ages waited, with hope reflected in their eyes.
Some spent hours, days, or even months waiting; others, desperate, paid large
sums to exchange their spots. They all shared the same wish: to see their dreams
fulfilled.

My eyes scanned the immense line, calculating how many people were ahead of
me, while my stomach rumbled with a hunger that made me doubt if my dream was
worth the torment. But then I'd reconsider: What person on earth wouldn't want to
see their dreams come true, especially when no one believes in you? At that
moment, I remembered the angry faces of my parents when I told them my dream.
Sadness overcame me for an instant, but I told myself, "I'm going to prove to them
that I can do it."

The most annoying thing was that the entrance was individual; no one else could
enter if someone was already inside, and there was no way to predict how long
each person would take. Some came out in minutes, while others disappeared for
days. I didn't like the ones who took forever. "Don't they think about how long the
rest of us have to wait?" I'd grow impatient, wishing everyone would hurry so my
turn would come soon.

It was then that I noticed a very wrinkled and hunched-over man in the line. Moved
by a curiosity that made me forget my hunger, I asked him, "Why do you want to
enter the city? Shouldn't you be resting?"
My comment seemed to sadden his face, and he answered in a dull voice, "I want
to see my dream come true, at least for an instant, before I die. I made some very
bad decisions in my life and was never able to straighten out my path. I just want to
stop feeling like a failure, even if it's just for a moment."

"How sad it must be to reach old age with that feeling," I thought. He told me he
was fifty years old, which surprised me, as his face looked at least seventy. I had to
make a great effort to hear him, as he spoke very softly and slurred his words as if
it were a lot of work. I noticed his hands were shaking and he looked very
disheveled, as if he hadn't cleaned up in days.

"You're still very young," I told him. "Don't talk about death."

He smiled and ruffled my hair like my grandfather used to. "Is that an old man
habit?" I thought.

I went back to my spot so as not to lose it, just as a new man arrived behind me.
He had paid a fortune to be there. With a greedy smile, he told me, "I'm dying to go
in and get rich! My neighbor went into the city and now he is. I asked him his secret
and he told me, 'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.' I think he must have found a
magical stone or a money-making machine. That's why I've come, to discover the
truth and get rich, too."

Finally, after so much time, I was allowed inside.

A very elegant and lovely-looking young woman greeted me at the front desk and,
with a big smile, asked me, "What is the dream that brought you to this city?"

"I want to be a writer," I answered.

"What kind of writer?"

I was silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. I was honest and told her,
"I hadn't thought about it." The young woman gave me a smile that reflected
empathy and explained that most of the people who come to the city have very
ambiguous dreams, and there are even some who don't even know what they
want.
"I really like mystery books. I'd like to be able to write books that captivate
everyone who starts reading them, that make them think of theories and keep them
intrigued. I want to be a mystery book writer!" I said, almost shouting.

She smiled and guided me down a street. I started walking and saw large
advertisements with my name and photo. The text took my breath away: "Books
sold out a week after publication." A shiver ran through my body, and my heart
started to beat faster, as if I had been running. Filled with disbelief, I immediately
went into a bookstore to look for my book, but the clerk informed me that there
were no copies left and that I could see other books by the same author. To my
astonishment, there were several famous sagas and bestsellers with my name
printed on the cover.

Shocked, I ran back to the front desk, dodging the people in the bookstore who had
managed to recognize me and were asking for autographs. When I arrived, I asked
the young woman, "Is all this real?"

She smiled calmly. "No, it's not, but it could be. Would you like to know how?"

Without a doubt, I said yes.

She guided me to a room and showed me a mirror that reflected my future. I could
see myself sitting at a desk full of books by other authors. "You're learning," she
told me. Then, she took me to another room where I saw myself writing alone, late
at night. The room was dark, except for a small lamp on the desk. On the floor,
there was a wastebasket overflowing with crumpled pages. "You're creating," she
whispered. Finally, in the last room, I saw myself a little older, proudly
contemplating my first published book. My face showed a little fatigue, but my
smile and bright gaze reflected happiness and satisfaction.

The young woman turned to me and said, "There is no dream that effort cannot
fulfill. Many people come here hoping that their wishes will magically come true
without doing anything. They spend years in that line because they are looking for
the easy way out. Some even get lost in the city, preferring to stay in this fantasy
instead of discovering the secret. Meanwhile, the few like you who come to seek
the truth are the ones who truly have the opportunity to achieve their dreams." At
that moment, I understood the time I had wasted.

The young woman gave me a valuable task: "Tell this story to as many people as
you can and ask them to tell it to others. That way, one day, no one will stand in
line anymore. This city will no longer be necessary, and everyone will know the true
secret."

So, if you're looking for the City of Dreams, don't waste your time in an endless
line. Instead of looking for it outside, close your eyes and find it inside yourself,
where effort is the key to "opening its doors."

Written by Verónica Leticia Hernández González