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    Abra

    Matching the high spires

    by , 07-30-2010 at 02:07 PM (408 Views)
    Just got up from this one...

    House shopping, with friends, deal fell through in my apartment or some such. At some kid's house, selling cages for lizards, along with the lizards. It feels like freshman year again, for a moment. This house is a mess, but we'll buy it and fix it ourselves, it's so cheap. Outside the kid's father is building a massive sculpture out of metal, beer and soda cans.

    Mom and this guy are talking on the porch, and the yard's muddy and our three dogs are outside going to the bathroom. I can see my little sister in the sun room, and the house is looking more and more like my parent's house. I take a second to reflect upon all this, the end of summer, the dogs... Wait. Two of those dogs are dead in real life. And I last woke up at 6:30. I reality check (not that I needed it by then) to confirm I'm dreaming. My sister wants to join me, but I still don't see the point of bringing people I know in real life with me on my escapades. I tell her to stay and draw, because things are about to get strange.

    The sky deepens to a rolling grey, and the backyard curves and stretches, bending upward such that I can see the forest slope into expansive, pristine wooded valleys. 'Bout 70% conifers. So I fly, and it's easier than ever. I push myself off the ground and pull myself higher. I'm not focused at all on the tactile of the flight, but on the unbelievable control I have, in these three dimensions. I take one last look at my house, with its muddy yard and mangled dead tree, my mother, my sister avidly sketching, and then I look forward, and ascend even higher, farther, until they're gone and I'm somewhere completely new. I want to know how high I can fly. I want to know if the scenery will remain realistic. I ascend to the edge of the atmosphere, deep, blue, glowing, curved. Then I dive, using the dive's momentum I level out with intense speed. Parallel flight, I reach a city. It's like my college town in that I feel welcome, among people who share similar values, but the people here are more willing to show how developed they are. There are no roads here. The clouds are dusty and cumulus now, golden-brown against a backdrop of glowing grey. I want to reach them, so I spire climb. I grab onto apartment buildings with my eyes, and fling myself around and past them (like a satellite breaking orbit), grabbing onto the next highest, and the next, building speed and confidence. Eventually I reach a clock tower, the highest building. I'm at the top, admiring the view, and a man grabs my ankle. He's on The Drug, can't leave The Drug, but is fine on The Drug and has a good honest job (he loathes) which pays for The Drug. I'm dreaming, so what will it do to me? I take a pill, yellow and blue, from this young blond, and feel the weight of my body. The scene becomes metallic, and there are people after us now, people belonging to this new place rather than the one I flew through. We must run, but I'm not sure if I'll take him with me. He won't move on his own.

    Construction noises goddommot.

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