#182

An electric shock!

Jolted awake, I fix my gaze out across the sea of clouds…

How did I arrive here? Is this a dream?

The sky rapidly changes hue, then settles to a black, sprinkled with different shapes, connecting dots, almost like constellations… but, these can’t be stars, perhaps planets? What is it that’s connecting them?

They continuously zoom around me in orbit, the shapes formed by the vertices rapidly change…

Are they… trying to speak to me?

I’m sitting on a wooden floor, atop a cloud that appears to be made of stone, unlike the others that span out into the infinite horizon…

Is it… moving, now?

Yes, the wind; it brushes past me; not too quickly, but steadily, it makes its way towards a bright neon pillar, glowing in a pearlescent manner

On its spire, as I near it, I can see more finer details.

Stories, as it would seem, played out on its surface like hieroglyphs; they felt familiar to me, in a way I cannot name…

Whose lives were these telling of? Were they fiction, or non fiction?

No… they feel, too familiar… I’ve known of these stories already, perhaps in a prior life… Were these, my stories?

Did I make them up, or did I live them? Does that even make a difference?

Perhaps either way, it is but the same song, only different mediums it is told through, no different than the current medium it has now taken on upon this spire… Etched onto its rock, yet with a fluid elegance, still changing, in ways I’ve never seen the story told before…

The characters in the story move; they are animated.

They are alive… Like me.

Do they know I’m here? Do they know this ghost watches their present fresh retelling of the past? My past? Or is it their new present?

Do they know I’m spectating them, marveled by their every move?

It would seem that isn’t the case… They perform their own tasks uninterrupted by my presence; all the while, I cannot help but sit there, transfixed, in a trance by their ordinary and mundane yet oh so mystical and magnificent actions.

Do they know of their own absurd form? Their own wonderful environment, one like a dream to me? Their rainbow spire? The sea of clouds that surround their spire?

Do they know I yearn… to join them? Or, perhaps, I’m just as absurd, to sit in this sea of clouds, watching them dance - perhaps someone is even watching me on another spire of my own, before, now, or after…

Who am I to say?

And so, I shall watch, watch; before enough time passes, and I am ready to let the stone cloud take me somewhere new.