The Clockwork Snail by Angela R Hunt

Clockwork Snail

By Angela R. Hunt

She told herself it was not real. 

The idea had been dismissed as impractical and mad, too destructive to benefit mankind. She listened to the gradual whirring sound as the tiny irridescent clockwork snail approached leaving a glowing wet trail behind it. It moved with blind certainty in her direction. She stepped to the side and watched as it adjusted course automatically. She wondered if she had time to run or if she was already lost to dreams.

She saw her laboratory in front of her. She saw a thief slip in and steal away. She saw a shadow approach her door only to hesitate and hunch down. The shadow grew and slid away, leaving a small object. 

She looked at it and it seemed to grow until it was the size of a castle, looming up in front of her. It was the snail with its clockwork steadily turning and whirring. It waited as she made her way to the base of the snail. She found a door with a golden handle shaped like a spiral. She felt compelled to enter the door. 

She had forgotten the world left behind.

Dreams formed around her from her greatest hopes and darkest fears.

Outside the shadow returned, he stepped into the lab. He took his cloak off. He wore giant tinted goggles that he did not remove. He used tweezers and carefully picked up the snail. He put it in a briefcase in a fitted pocket, lined up perfectly with forty other snails. They glowed brightly in various colors.

The woman laid on the floor unmoving, eyes closed. She would never wake again. Her mind, her dreams were gone. They could now be sold to someone who collected and enjoyed wandering through other minds. They assumed the minds they bought were artificially created like the snail, but how many would really care if they learned the minds were taken from the world's finest dreamers?