Sunday 25 July 2010

Spoken Sunday - Dreams

It is Saturday night in the city. It is warm, and my window is open, letting in a cool breeze. I know this is through no kindness towards me; Mother has left the window open so that I may hear the world outside. This is to punish me for my wickedness. I am unsure as to the nature of my most recent transgression but she assures me it was heinous indeed. I am to sit here and listen to the sounds of young people like myself enjoying the evening delights of the city. There is a restaurant on the other side of the plaza. I hear glasses chinking, cutlery against plates, laughter. The words are indistinct but I hear stories being told. People guffaw as their companions reach their punchlines. I fill in the blanks, and smile. These people must lead such interesting, rich lives, out there in the city. Out there...

I stand on my bed and peer through the window high in the wall. I can see little, but my imagination paints me a picture. Groups of friends will be huddled around tables, sharing stories while waiters bustle between them. They will be carrying platters of steaming food, the dishes a riot of colour and smells as people sample cuisines both exotic and local. The air will be thick with bonhomie and warmth.

I turn away from the window, back to my bare little room. Mother took my books to punish me for forgetting to say grace. She took my telescope when I forgot to bless her after she sneezed. She still allows me paper and pencils to write or draw, but she takes what I produce. She tells me my talents are not my talents, they are gifts from God, so my art must return to Him. I do not understand this, but I do not tell her so in case she takes the paper away too.

I lie down on my bed, and think about the gift I have been given by the Universe. It gave me sleep, and the chance to dream. My eyes close, and I melt into the arms of Morpheus, and he takes me to a world without prisons, where I can run free. My dreams know no punishments, or rules. God has no jurisdiction in my dreams.


Benjamin Solah said...

I liked this a lot. It's such a sad little story.

I like how you post the text to and I kind of follow along as you read which adds something else to it. I might try this one week.

ChloƩ P. Kovac said...

"...the dishes a riot of colour and smells". Wow, that's just.. wow. Awesome use of language!

Icy Sedgwick said...

@Benjamin - I put the text up in case anyone has trouble with my accent...or audio!

@Chloe - Why thank you! I love describing food. ^_^

Jen said...

I love this, and I think it's because yes it's a sad story, her mother is so awful, yet she still dreams such wonderful things and see happiness and delight in what's going on in the world. Even the world she isn't allowed to join. Wonderful details.

Walt said...

Reading words aloud leads to interesting things. Your closing, "My dreams know no punishments, or rules. God has no jurisdiction in my dreams", was very good when read, but hearing the words aloud added much more impact.

Well done

Icy Sedgwick said...

@Jen - I wish I could be as optimistic as this little lady.

@Walt - Yeah, I think that's why I'm growing to love this AudioBoo thing, you can communicate so much using just intonation.

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