Friday, July 29, 2011

The Library is closing

You're standing on a cloud. Afternoon sun slants down the fluffy hills like liquid gold. The cerulean blue sky above conveys a sense of endless wonder, and your heart longs to go higher and higher. There's an umbrella with a mahogany, U shaped handle in your hand; open for no particular reason. Across the sky a single engine biplane is puttering its way through a cloud, leaving a wake that takes the shape of letters: Love.

"What's up, man?"
"Nothing much. What can I get for you today?"
"Git me two dollar's worth of chopped ham. Sliced thin, but not too thin, you know?"
"Uh huh. Medium."

The slicer moves; back and forth, back and forth. You're in a study, filled with chairs and people. A dark man stands by the fireplace, a white haired woman sits on the sofa, tea vapors and conversation permeate the air. They're all older, except a middle aged man and woman sitting to the right of the fireplace. The fireplace… The orange flames flicker with rage as the woman on the sofa says, "Poison! Who would do such a thing, Marilda?"

"The library will be closing in five minutes. Please bring your selections to the front desk immediately."
Suddenly you have to go, but you don't want to. All fade, but none disappear. With only a slightly heavy heart you step back, through to reality. It's not so bad here, you think. A smile dances across your lips as you imagine what kinds of adventures you'll come across today.


  1. I've heard of walking in one's sleep, and even reading in one's sleep, but never _writing_ in one's sleep before! And yet your prose force me to consider that you were thoroughly dreaming when you put finger to keyboard. Egad, Gabriel!