A DREAM: A story from the heart

I am set on the floorboard of a car, while the others look out the windows, anxious of being caught. Everything is black, the car, our clothing, the sun. The only thing that is illuminated is our faces. I attempt to stay calm, but their anxiousness evokes a troubling spirit within. I begin to breathe heavy and my hands tremble.

“Hey.” one of them whispers down to me

 

I look up and I find him. His face is blurry but his voice very clear.

 

“You have to calm down. They are coming for us.”

 

I abide and attempt to calm myself. I lie on my back looking up at the blank skin of the car. I close my eyes but I still hear the mumblings around me. I am polarized by the chaotic melancholy thriving in this atmosphere. I can see an abstruse light emerging under my eyelids, and I hear a hard pounding near my feet. I feel it is elusive as I feel my way around it, and very deceiving, as I can’t judge its purpose. I presume its danger. I settle myself in the dread, the abyss. I know its over for me, it is just a matter of time. Then the whispering around me digressed. They diminished as the pounding became more apparent. I was extremely overwhelmed. I heard a whistle and a quick bang. It was over. I opened my eyes. Whatever had threatened me, or whatever had been looking for something, had been lost. The darkness crept away. A amber light executed the absence of upbeat notion with its own tune. The outer coating of the floorboard a dark purple. The car lights above me now opened their occult eyes. It seems an onslaught ensued while I was dormant in my mind. I looked around and had found the liquid of life roaming over the car seats and covering over the floor board more and more. The windows that seemed tinted now open themselves up as more clear frames to the outer world. I pan over to the back window, as I lift myself up. The window was too graphic for my eyes. I was paralyzed. I was jarred. Their was the thick yolk of life trailing down the window. A bloody handprint had pressed its emotion at the time, so aggressively in the very center of the frame. I felt a thick lump in my throat. There was a profusion of thoughts, an immense collection of choices to select from. I was too overwhelmed to do so. I heard the whispers again. I closed my eyes and found myself in this dystopian lab of misfit culture. Mohawks and long hair were the choice of fashion around these parts. I stand close to a large window. Inside the large window is flowing water that begins to rise to the top. I step forward and see people swimming. They all float so elegantly. Their hair slithers through the water. Around me I see empty picture frames and I notice there are no doors. Vibrant colors paint the walls. A clown stands beside me.

 

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

I agree and begin to step closer to the window. Then in an abrupt manner I am thrown into that world. The water engulfs me. The rushing water pounds my ear drums and my eyes fog for a split second. I feel like an outsider. They all have so much rhythm and poise in this vast, ever so moving world. I smile though, because I see the beauty of it. I hear a clangor behind me. I swivel around to face it. It is that odd clown. He is smiling and waving in my direction. I do the same. He turns his back on me and walks away. Slowly his image diminishes. I am left to figure it all out on my own. The world around me sang a subtle tune that I enjoyed. It soothed my soul. I prayed to the Deity and he congratulated me for stepping out. I smiled. He told me to follow the tune. I explain that my communication is at times uncouth, and he reasons with me that, is just a small glitch. I am humbled by the scale of the land I am in but I am not afraid. I swim out.

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