Monday, July 17, 2006

A dream I almost had

It was a large group of us, some preferred to stand but I was sprawled on the ground thinking of the bugs that might be crawling into my scalp but I figured if I couldn't see them they couldn't hurt me much.

Someone came up to me against the light, and I imagined his silhouetted lips moving when he said, "You know, we could talk forever." Strange, because I hadn't spoken in years.

Outside, the incessant chatter became louder. First a slight metallic clatter, and then a bang of wooden furniture thrown across the floor. The walls began to shake.

"I knew it would come to this," he said loudly, to no one in particular, leaning against the far end of the room furthest away from the shaking doors. I wondered why no one else went to stand with him, he cut such a lonely figure under the lamp.

Above the doors, light began to emerge from the cracks in the roof. Tiny hands appeared, eagerly peeling back the pieces of metal that had already been shredded. As the beams hit the floor, I realised that I had been utterly betrayed.

He leaned over and whispered, "You see, I was right all along."