#FridayFlash - Dreams

It is Saturday night in the city. It is warm, and my window is open, letting in a cool breeze. 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 other young people enjoying the evening delights of the city.



A market is in progress below my window - the glow of its lights casts twisted shadows across my walls. The stallholders bark details of their goods and customers haggle over the matter of a few coins. There is a restaurant on the other side of the plaza, where glasses chink, cutlery clatters against plates, and people laugh. The words are indistinct but stories are told, punctuated by guffaws as punch lines are reached. 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 try to peer through the window high in the wall. I can see little, but my imagination paints me a picture. Groups of friends huddle around tables, sharing stories while waiters bustle between them. Platters of steaming food turn the air into a riot of smells as people sample cuisines both exotic and local. Bonhomie and warmth turns the night heavy.



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.