May 10, 2007

Closing Doors

He twitched, gingerly opening his eyes to the glaring light. Rubbing his eyes slowly, he sat up and took note of his surroundings. Cool air, sweet smell of dew, birds singing in the trees; it was everything you might have hoped to wake up to. He stirred, rustling the pile of dead leaves as he got up to explore his surroundings. Where was this place? It felt so serene and yet, underlying it all, was a feeling of dread; like it was all a facade.

Then he woke. To the darkness of his old shed. To the musty smell of old newspapers flung around the room, evidence of his tardiness. It was all a sham, something he knew was too good to be true. Somehow the light he saw and the beauty he experienced was always going to be too good for him. It was his destiny in life never to know happiness and the dream was merely sick taunting from the corner of his consciousness, as if cruelly reminding him of his eternal melancholy. It was always going to be a case of chasing shadows in the wind, or was it?

The door had been left ajar, leaving light streaming in from the sun outside. As he walked over to investigate, he felt a cool breeze filter into the room, reminiscent of what he'd experienced in the dream. Could it be that there was happiness behind the door? If he'd only open it wide and take it all in? He heard voices calling out to him from the fence outside, as if gesturing for him to follow his heart and to embrace the Light outside. He smiled wryly, as if making a motion to do so.

Then he stopped. Taking a padlock, he bolted it shut, making sure that never again would he believe that he'd ever be happy. Then he sank to the floor slowly, and wept.

"They say love hurts, I wrote that book."


Traveller fell apart at 1:01 AM

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