I'll dream of things so far away
And thoughts will fly around my head
Of things I thought were lost and dead,
And I'll have just one thing to say
Of what I find in slumber deep.
I may take to a mountain height
For in my dreams, I'll find the things
And now, as I lie in bed, I prepare to enter a world of twisted reality, a black and white world of the unknown. I stand, balanced on a dotted line, between life and death, staring into a bottomless void of blackness, and I jump. Falling, faster and faster, flower and slower, down and up and down, deeper, falling and rising, for hours in blackness, until finally, I find myself standing, unmoving, in the misty catacombs of the dream world. I walk through the deepest hallways of my mind, far beyond the reach of conscious existence. Which dream will I choose tonight? There, in the darkest, dustiest corner, there's one I haven't used before.
Chapter 1: Years
Halloween to Halloween. Death's shadow watching, waiting, testing the time. Three-hundred-sixty-five nights, tossing and turning, walking down the darkest alleys with nothingness breathing down my back, every moment expecting tragedy, but never quite knowing where it lies, or what it holds in store for me. Shadows from the past lurk in every corner, taunting me, dividing my mind, carrying me beyond the edge of reality. Three-hundred-sixty-five nights of illusion, flashback, our of control. Death's shadow watching, waiting, testing the time.
Chapter 2: Days
The sun rises, filling the air with warmth, bringing to life all the colors and beauty of nature. Birds and butterflies ride happily on the breezes. The rushing water of a nearby brook forms a smooth cushion of sound, calling for all the world to relax. Small, puffy clouds drift slowly by. I sit along in the tall grass, watching their unending march, and wondering what will happen when all the clouds are gone. What if there are no clouds left for tomorrow> Who, then, will take their place? They sing a silent song to me as they dance across the sky, and now, a stray breeze carried their words to me:
"On we march, from beyond the world's end to beyond the world's end, dropping tears for the plight of man, for we know his destiny..."
And then the song is carried off again, back to the clouds, drifting slowly away. As they leave, they drop a bright halo of hope on the world, but they know that it is all in vain.
The sun reaches it's zenith, and, as if on cue, the horizon darkens under the ominous gloom of a gathering storm. It moves slowly; at first, almost unnoticed. And then a cold wind sweeps across the land. The sun is darkened, and the race begins. Through the blackness comes the deafening roar of a thousand trees fighting against the gale. And then, as blackness returns, forbidden in other circles. A disorganized rumble of dark secrets and impending doom.
Chapter 3: Hours
Nuclear Holocaust. One hour till "T-Time" of detonation. How will you spend your last hour? On the telephone, calling home? All the lines are full; you can't get through. Maybe a walk in the park, looking at the trees, and the animals, and the grass? But not on a rainy day like today. I sit staring out the window at a dreary, gray world, on the brink of nonexistence, with one hour left before it destroys itself. Why couldn't it have happened on a sunny day? Do the clouds see man's destiny? Do they now drop their last tears, before they, too, are left behind by time, blown forever beyond the world s end? Less than an hour to live. The timeclock winds down.
Chapter 4: Seconds
The bomb explodes. A blinding flash lights the sky. Atoms divide madly, releasing huge amounts of energy. Firestorm: the atmosphere burns and punches a hole through the cloud cover. A blistering hot wind blows buildings over, and in seconds, dries up what the clouds took hours to make. How did you spend your last second? The timeclock winds down.
Chapter 5: Eternity
The timeclock stops.
8:00 A.M. Monday. Time for school. I lie in bed, cold, dead.
Where nothing starts, and nothing ends
And nothing is impossible.
Inside my mind, where none can find
Beyond my brain, beyond my frame
© 1984 Antone Roundy
© 2001-5, Gecko Tribe, LLC