I had a dream about a black wall that was the sky.
Black and spinning around a half smiling moon, it looked into a glass box so big it held a forest, a field and a road inside.
And me.
I had arrived at the end of a long and winding dirt road where I stopped, getting out of my small grey car.
It was cold.
The black and spinning wall was colder. Maybe even more so because I could not pass. Maybe because I was dissapointed that there was even a wall at all. I removed my hand and backed away. Turning I looked around at my dark, giant, enclosed space. The moon seemed to laugh at me as it danced along the tips of leaves and grass and roads leading to nowhere until it reflected more dimly on another, darker wall. The direction I assume I must have come from.
There were four walls. And a top. Dark black glass with a two dimensional grinning moon.
I hated that moon for being able to touch the tips of my world, but not letting me beyond this box. Not even letting me see through the cold glass that kept me in.
But maybe, I thought, just beyond this glass there is something not so dark. Maybe just on the other side, there is SOMETHING.
and as if the moon could read my thoughts, it said no. Only this moon, and the dark.
and in the convicted way of dreams, I believed it.
I glared back at the moon for a long minute.
I asked, just the moon, and the dark?
Yep. Only me, and the dark.
It laughed.
then I said, with the convicted way of dreams,
Then at least there’s no box…..
