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No. 84972
File 13326543895.jpg - (74.41KB , 370x450 , Flowers.jpg )
Here's something:
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There’s a field. He knows that it’s a dream. It’s bright. Everything is so green with random splashes of color. The air is so warm. He doesn’t feel it, but he knows. Was this a memory? That can’t be right. It felt too perfect to really exist. The leaves rustled with the breeze. He knows if he looks up they’ll be a kite ridding the wind.
He listen contently to the sounds of nature and watched the flowers sway. He hadn’t seen flowers in a long time. 6 months now. Real flowers, that is. Standing still he could feel something build inside him. That same something knocked him back. It felt very familiar. There was a bright flare. And everything was whisked away.
He opened his eyes slowly. The ending of the dream was always abrupt. Like falling in place. This wasn’t the first time he had dreamed of this. Of a warm field. The feeling of Spring against his skin. The dim sun light from the small plexi-glass window in his room couldn’t compare.
The man, who’s name had been forgotten, even by himself, rubbed a hand over his face to wipe the sleep away. Another day. Tedious monotony beginning again. Stretching, he sat up. Faintly, he could some kind of commotion in the hall outside his door.
It didn’t sound like the usual. Not like when people refused to take their morning medication. No, this was hushed, yet he could hear the shock in their whispered voices. He got up. He had to see what it was that had finally shattered the pattern. And when he opened the door, for a moment there was a flare of memory. Something strong. No faces. Just an engine roaring to life. Windows rolled down. A smile. A park with a couple of benches in a town that still existed.
And flowers. The hall was covered in flowers. He looked on with a feeling that had no name. The other patients who stood at their doors looked up at him. One by one. They grew quiet watching him. Like they could something no one else could. They looked so happy for him…
The man knelt down, and picked a flower. It was warm. As if it had just been in a patch of sun. It made him smile. Nodding to the others, he turned, and walked back into his room.
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