It wasn’t an awful thing to accept that he was stuck in a dream zone. He wouldn’t mind living there forever. “It would be beautiful to fly around if I could somehow understand the physics here”, H thought. He wanted to go through the velvet curtains of time and space. “How can one find the direction?”, he asked. He would need a base to return to. He wondered where he would rest and nest, in the land of dreams.

“Is this how we stuck in earthliness? Maybe it was a base, initially, then we rooted and got stuck here.”

“Angel look I got you flowers, It is such a beautiful day!” She instead grabbed the rosemary bread and told him to find a vase. She unskillfully put her mini morning gown that didn’t cover her buttocks fully. The velvet curtains moved with a warm shiny breeze which caught the naked cheek just before she left the room to go to the kitchen in hurry. He wanted to popped the question. An engagement ring was hidden in the flowers. “Silly girl!” he thought.

He started to look for the brown ceramic vase that was supposed to be on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. They didn’t have grand furniture at home. Only bits and pieces standing around independently. Nothing they bought came in pairs, nothing really matched the previous ones, no set items ever made into the house. The forks, the cups and the chairs in the kitchen were all in different colours and shapes. No bowl was the same or similar of the other bowls. Nothing matched. They collected each item one by one, with no hurry. The vase was from a ceramics exhibition, Angel said “Look how earthy this is.” It had brownish, dark and green colours in it. H saw what she saw in the literally earthy vase: Earth, layer by layer, from magma to the sky and all the colours of the green leaves in between.

He heard the toaster clicking downstairs in the kitchen, smell of the rosemary climbed up to the bedroom, the curtains released more light into the wooden floor, light that is playing hide and seek. H suddenly paralysed with the fear of coming to that very moment that he noticed she is dead. H wanted not to find the vase and stay in the room watching the hide and seek of the lights. He wanted to wait for the toaster to pop the rosemary bread. H knew that this would be the exact moment where she would start screaming with a childish joy, as if she has achieved something.

H wanted to sit down in front of the walls where the velvet dark curtains let the light in that is looking for her beautiful pale skin, searching without any luck, since the day she was gone. H had no one else to share his pain, he only wanted to sit down and rest his back to the restless sunlight, at least he wouldn’t feel as mad. H stopped looking for the vase, meaning to stop the chain of happenings: The toaster doesn’t pop the bread, lights go on searching, she never feels excited about the toasted rosemary bread, he waits for her scream, crysathemums freeze alive in the dream time, all freeze, stay like this, forever.

H wanted to stay vague in the borders of the time, where she is both dead and alive, at some degrees. H wanted this to stay as a grey area in his life, which has not yet been decided, by freezing his dream time. “Perfect meeting point for us.” H thought, “The dreamland”. H hoped that by freezing the time just before the turning point, where he finds out about her death,  they could meet and settle somewhere between dead and alive… He could find a new form of existing, right? As a new man…

“Dreams I adore the most”, he thought, “if I don’t know I am in a dream…” Now he feels cursed a bit in the dreamland.

H started to wait for the toaster to pop the bread, he didn’t move to look for the vase, he had chrysanthemums in his hand, frozen alive in the deep allies of his mind. H continued to wait for the toaster to pop the breads. H waited a bit more, a bit more, enjoying the wait… It was well into afternoon, that sunlight seemed tired of searching for her.


John was just leaving, his hands in his pocket, when he saw John leaving through the front gate. H was going to the graveyard to take the chrysanthemums, to her. H asked John if he had the keys for the car. John was confused about how he knew what he had come for. A visible confusion expanded from his forehead to his face. John handed the car keys. He couldn’t even stick a note, as he didn’t have a pen. “I was going to get a pen” he said, pointing his house next door.

H wanted to master his silence and his dreams and walk through the tunnels of the existence, until he reunites again with her filaments, halfway through, between dead and alive, either dead or alive, both dead and alive. He wanted to define the new man he senses. H suddenly felt an objection inside, for the first time, and corrected himself, “I want to create the new man”.

H thought that he could enter and exit the time as he wishes, he can decide for the definitions, instead of denying and avoiding them. He felt chrysanthemums stretching their necks, with joy, in his hand.

“This must be it, end of an era. I am a new man now.”

“I no more trust time. I no more trust the words. I no more trust the definitions. How can the words define anything flowing in time, accurately? I am a new man. I don’t trust the words defining me that is flowing in time. I am both this and that, therefore I am.”

He walked to the graveyard with flowers. He placed the chrysanthemums on the earth covering her with beautiful earthy layers, colours, textures from magma to sky and the greens in between. He heard the toaster popping the bread, and then all the noise wiped off from the face of the earth.

He felt peaceful.


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