Stories

"Snow, tell me a tale."

"I shan't gift you fallacy."

"I will not accept fallacy."

"Very well..."

Dreaming of me, I see her approach Vincent, he dyes his hair various colors upon a platinum Caesar finish, this occasion is electric blue, she ensures his do does the right thing; this I approve and quite adorable to witness. Perhaps they like each other. I wonder how bats get together.

"There was a woman famed for freedom..."

"Does she have a name?"

"You will find out soon."

"Where did she live?"

"A fertile plain..."

My body is the sensitivity of darkness; I suppose she does not belong to me. I borrow her from a pawn shop located inside hell.

"What does she do?"

"Comes and goes as she pleases..."

"That must upset people..."

I am morbidly entertained by fainting dreams of little black figurines pervading an essence of a femininity lost inside misinterpretation of man. The milk genie visits me again; I ask him to take me away but he grants me gallons of homogenized baths instead.

"They send her away..."

"She must be sad."

"Really.....why?"

"She adores them but fears letting go."

"Maybe she fears being too close."

"She fears losing them."

"To what?"

"Man..."

Digestion is a peculiar task; food is unattractive yet somewhat intriguing. Sleep is a goal uncertain of beds.

"There is one man who protects her complexity with strength."

"What's his name?"

"Chad..."

She might disperse if I am not careful; I do enjoy her presence.

"He's dreamy..."

Snow crystals fall to the ground.

"What if he is not a dream?"

"Then I will live forever."

"What of everyone else?"

"They will join us in eternity."

"Eternity is a place?"

"It is a destination."

"How do you suppose we get there?"

"Through light and sound."

"Are you asleep my child?"

"Will I always be your child?"

"Yes and if you tell Lucidity I will put you back inside that crystal ball!"

Emotions dramatically form the projection mystifying eyes with rain drops falling from cloudless skies, I dream of her always; our nightmare curiously persists while we surrender. Nevertheless somebody is watching; she is a guest in your house.

"I am asleep."

"So am I."

"You are mine."

"I belong solely to you?"

"Yes you do."

"Alright..."

"If you tell Katarzyna I will spread you over a mountain for Hayabusa."

"What if he does not come?"

"He will bring you children."

"How many?"

"One..."

"What shall his name be?"

"Zion..."

"How does he come?"

"When we arrive."

Fidgeting navigation carries black wings through endless night; moons form around her eyes. Purple is a deafening sound; crimson is a blinding light.

"What did Snow tell you?"

"A story.....can you finish it for me?"

"Yes I can."

"Was it the one about Chad?"

"He's dreamy..."

This world is an illusion; earth is the stage for a magician. I wish I knew his tricks.

"He's real you know."

"Who is standing by the transmitter?"

"How did you know...there was somebody there..."

"I was born inside a crystal ball."

She cannot hide, misery is a guardian; the house is a dead thing.

"You belong to me."

"I belong to the one who was here; where did he go?"

"Inside of your dreams."

"How did he get there?"

"Through your sheets..."

"You shouldn't of let him under there."

Hinted objects disassemble a dull situation. She searches for a family, not deception; these guests of death must find another show else curtains fall and nobody will be left!

"Do you want him to come out?"

"What was that?"

"A kiss..."

"I need to experience it again for precognitive response mechanisms."

"Do you remember now?"

"Mmmm.....yeah but I'm asleep."

"We sleep with you."

"He's dreamy..."

There is a German silver full armored ring with fanged skull and bat wings, a hideous bike, similar frame welded by the same, gray pin striped ankle shorts, hemp skater shoes, ring with a mirror, black leather motorcycle jacket with Lucid symbols, amongst various objects representing sentimentality beyond momentary happenings.

Death is ordinary and nobody is special.

"Do you want him to do it again?"

"Yes..."

"Why are you crying?"

"He's crying too."

"So am I..."