Just a Dream.

Sweat runs down my face as I choke on my breath. It is gaining on me. I look over my shoulder, but see nothing. Still, I know it is there. It never leaves. Breath for breath. Step for step. It is never far. Heart pounding. Knees aching. Still, I push.

In the distance I can see three rectangular shapes. As I bring myself closer the shapes turn into doors. Each the same beige color. Light escaping through the cracks. I look back. A wall appears. Suddenly I am in a room. A brightly lit white room with three exits before me.

I walk to the door to the left and put my ear to it. No matter how I strain. I hear nothing. I repeat this to the other doors. Same result. I sit cross legged in front of the middle door. I wait. Thinking something will come through to help me.

Time passes. I have no idea how long. Deep breath. I stand and walk to the door to the right. Right hand on the handle, I knock with my left. Silence. I turn the knob. I peak through the door.

There you are. Hunched over your desk. Working on your art. I watch you for a moment. Never have I been so sure. Never have I loved. Until you. I call out your name, but you do not answer. I walk to you. My body hits a glass barrier. I can’t get to you. I scream your name.

Nothing. I beat upon the barrier, but it won’t break. You are right there. So close. I have come so far. I do not want to lose you now. I go still. It has come back. I turn around. There is no door. Back pressed against the glass. It is looking right at me.

It lunges at me and I barely move in time. I turn just long enough for it to knock me down. We wrestle. A blur of activity. We tumble round and round. I grow tired. It will not relent. It does not seem to lose strength. I cannot keep fighting.

Desperate. I call out your name. I look back to your desk, but you are gone. You abandoned me. How could I have been so wrong? In all my life I never thought I could be so close to someone. Understand them so completely on such a profound level. I can feel myself giving up. I look to it ready to give in. Before I do I take one last dramatic look back.

You are standing at the glass. Watching me fight. You give me the faintest smile. A nod of encouragement. My chest swells and in the next moment I put my arm through it’s center. It roars in pain. It fights back. I keep on it. Determined to win I pull myself together.

I do not look back to you until it is over. I know you are there. Cheering me on. I would think I could fight this thing forever. Writhing in pain it barely puts up much more of a fight. So I do for it what it would not do for me.

The coup de grace. I stand over it for a time. Not sure how to feel. What to think. I turn back to you. Beaming. You have never looked more wonderful to me. Impossible as it may seem. I walk over to you. Desperate to take you in my arms.

But the wall. The glass remains. I look around for something to smash it with. Nothing. I try to point out the things you could use to break it. But you just stand there. Your smile fades. You walk back to your desk. And resume working on your art.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Just a Dream.”


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