DREAM 20TH JUNE 2017
vivid +++, astral ???
I fine myself on a path half mud half gravel track thick lined with trees and foliage so meany the view to aether side is obscured with a steep bank to my left and a canopy so think that only a few rays of sun light penetrate to the ground under my feet. I am not alone a large crowd of people walk along with me all seeming to know where they are heading and what for. I follow the multitude that have gathered and start to walk, like a crowed at a festival walking toward the music people walk and chat and laugh, I feel excited with anticipation for what we have all been brought here for. Then the canopy opens to revel the sun light that warms us all. To my left I glance and notice two faces so recognisable I would pic them out of a crowd now. They point to the left as they talk with each other and as I get close enough to hear there conversation they smile at me and ask me over, “hey man you skate right?” a face I recognise but do not know asks me.
“yes” I reply but without my mouth moving to say the word.
“Cool, we are thinking of concreting the nettles” as he points to the steep bank of nettles to my left.
once again my seemingly telepathic reply
“ I would skate that but I don't have my board”
“ no problem its to wet now anyway” is the vocal reply.
“Come with us, you must be hungry? Come back to the squat” as they point in the direction of the flowing group of people.
This time I do not reply with words or my mind I simply follow and walk.
A short time seems to past and we exit the wooded canopy into a urban environment.
Rundown and as grey as only a city on a rainy day can look. Industrial and mostly empty with any windows visible boarded and covered in chipboard.
“there” a voice says a man with dreadlocks points to a high rise tower block of concrete looms over us and people continue to walk past me as I gaze up at the ugly grey beast.
I am turned off by the building but draw in the the crowd and excited by my own yearning for new experience and adventure.
I join the long line the crowd have now formed single file and silent just the patter of the drizzle on thick coats and hoods to sing me along the line until I can see a doorway of wooden bored with red graphite sprayed across in a script I nether understand or recognise. As people approach they knock once and the door opens and someone walks through. This happens again and again silent and rhythmically until it is myself at the front of the queue and at the door, I knock once and the door opens no creek or sound is made by the board as it swings to give me entry.
Inside is a dark stair case of more grey concrete and walls bear apart from the same red spray paint as out side in letters and symbols unimaginable in there simplicity but also seemly complex and with a narrative like hieroglyphics inside a futuristic urban pyramid.
Suddenly above and to the front of me the single file line of walking people seem to arrive at there destination and walk in through another wooden boarded door on a landing the level above me as I approach this door way it shuts fast but without slamming in front of me before I enter.
“Next level” a voice from inside me beckons me up another flight of stairs and to another door this time large, carved dark oak greats me as my entrance. And creeks open without a touch from my hands. Behind it the light so bright I cover my face and squint my eyes. As they adjust to the new colour I am amazed, confessed and stunned by the beauty that is before me. Wide and well lit with crystal chandlers is the hall way and lined with red plush velvet flocked and gold patterned walls , my feet now instead of walking on cold concrete now padded along thick red carpet and my hands ran along polished oak banisters .
my eyes must have been as wide as my smile as I walked along this extravagant palace of a hall way.
At a door in front of me stand a old man in black coat and tails, top-hat and white gloves, on my approach he opens the door with a “ welcome sir” as I walk through and I am met by faces of well dressed men in dinner jackets and fine suits sat with women dressed in fantastic ball gowns and long gloves. I can remember thinking it was as if I had come from the lower decks to the first class dining room of the Titanic, however unlike jack as I walked through the room a gazing with amazement at the red walls and fine baroque furniture that the people were sitting at that had been covered and filled with silver and crystal dining sets and over each was a ornate chandler casting bright light throughout the room, people did not look at me with contempt or disgrace, but leaned in to each other and smiled or laughed as they welcomed me to take my place at one of the tables.
the chair is pulled out for me and a napkin placed on my (some how now suited) legs and a waitress as blond as the sun and as unrecognisable yet like the man with the dreadlocks strangely familiar. Without moving her lips asks me
“ what I would like for your first course sir?”
“ we hear you have changed recently, so you can have whatever you desire here”
“thank you” my stunned mouth replied with words for the first time.
“or you can still have the fist course sir” the waitress words enter my head with the speed that she thought them.
I can remember one last thought of amazement and a strange feeling of knowing every face I saw in the woods, walking in the crowd, standing in the line, climbing the stairs and that I now sat with in the dinning room and feeling home.
but not any place I would experience here on earth,
that was the last feeling I had before I woke.
BY
KIERAN G BIGG
