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How to please your Vulcan?

My work is about a dream as a way to transform reality. A little girl, dreaming about changing her appearance, tries to change herself in real life. Her dreams are so strong that at one point she ceases to distinguish where she is real. Her dreams invade the real world, transforming it. But the question is: where does this transformation lead? To an increase in self-confidence due to the mitigation of unpleasant experiences or an even deeper immersion in your fears and complexes?

 

…Suddenly, there was a strong bang, which caused the girl to wake up. And then there was silence again. The girl huddled under the covers, and, covering her face with them, began to listen. It seemed that someone was walking around the room, quietly, insinuatingly, but tangibly close, touching her bed, looking for something. Then she felt someone touch her hair, which was scattered across the pillow and the only ones not hidden who could see what was happening.

Playing before going to bed and laying down her dolls, the girl always sang to them the lullaby of the princess, who, sitting by the window and combing her long curls, was waiting for the handsome prince. Dressing up in her mother's best dress, the girl imagined that incredibly beautiful hair was growing on her head, which she also combed, braided into thick braids, and sometimes laid out on the bed, carpet and even the windowsill, they were so long.

The girl was sure that her own, dull, gray and thin hair would never attract the attention of not only the prince, but even plastic dolls. And now, lying in what seemed to her an incredibly large and hard bed, more like a raft, she remembered that the night before she had forgotten to remove the princess's magical hair from her head. What if this someone came after them and wants to steal them? Or maybe this is a prince who found out where the princess lives and decided to marry her?

Gathering her courage, the girl sat down and slowly lowering the blanket began to peer into the darkness. There was no one in the room. The only thing she could clearly see in the dim moonlight was her hair, lying lifeless on the pillow, slightly fluttering from the vibrations of the air penetrating through the wide cracks of the window frame.

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