A snippet of a dream which touched me in its simulated humanity.
The surreal; an as yet unnoticed calmness crystallizing into his moving, thinking form. Through the doorway of which there is no door, he moves. Unbenounced to our hero, there lay a maiden in the ruffled and folded sheets. The edges of the room tapering away into a cloudy haze of white and nothing, he leaps into the bed, and rolls with the covered figure. Long black hair rolls with him. Their faces meet at the edge of the bed, he can feel his body slipping, she smiles; they have been here before.
With an elated smile, she giggles, pulls him toward her, and touches the tip of her nose to his.
Wordless, thoughtful movement ensues. He arched above, her below gazing up, “it’s nice to see you” she says. He smiles without reservation.
“I’ve had a dream about you again”, he says.
“Oh yes?” she retorts with a large smile.
“Yes” he says back softer, in a more forlorn tone. “I’m having that dream right now.”
He can feel, deep at the root of his being, the edges of this world fraying.
“Oh…” she says, apparently in thought, the smile somewhat lost. “That’s”, she pauses “weird”.
Though the universe does fall to pieces as he expected, the illusion is broken. Not woman, not hair, but thoughts, memories of this. With a soundless existential sigh, he gets up from the bed, and walks into the next room. Sitting against the wall, his knees to his chest, he contemplates this, his mind and the lucid incongruence.
Fading away, the room dissolves, and like the blink of the mind, our hero is elsewhere, climbing, looking over a vast inert valley of rolling hills; off and away, he walks with the legs of his mind, dragging behind bits of remembrance, like pieces of cloud caught to his feet.
Words of a dream 10/02/2014