Dark Flute and Lone Star, Jim Guthrie

Open your eyes, ever so slowly. Just a little bit at a time. Stretch your neck, open your mouth, wave your arms.

                                      Awaken.
                                                                 
                                                                   Arise.

You've never seen this place before. It looks beautiful. It looks haunting. Look here look there. Look up look down.

                          "what the fuck?"

Close your eyes again. You might find yourself back in the comfort of your dreams. Get up. Get up already. The sun is rising. You feel it on your skin. You accept the warm embrace. The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stand like soldiers.

                                                                                                                                  "Soldiers?"

You move towards the sun. Always move towards the sun. The sun has answers for you. The sun better give you your answers. Blink, rapidly. It's bright. Look down for a second and let your pupils cower under the suddenly harsh sun.

                                                                           Look up.

You're in a desert. You see a figure stand in the distance. It gets bigger and bigger the close you get to it. You're right there. Almost there. You call out to the figure. You can't. Your mouth is dry. But wait. That figure.

                                   It's you.

Why is there a mirror in the desert? You wonder. The figure in the mirror answers.

                                                                                         "You should know, you made it."

You blink again. A confused expression on your face. "I made it?" Then it hits you. This is the barren, arid desert you've created for yourself. That's when you realise.

                    You wake up with a start.

You smile. You haven't smiled in ages. Not since...

                                                                                         "Forget it. Learn to move on. Learn to Live."

Who was that? That was a familiar voice. You decide to take it's advice. That day, you smile. You laugh. You accept. You feel the joy of being alive in this beautiful world.





You're in the desert again. This time, it's different. The air doesn't feel oppressive. Your mouth isn't dry. Your feet feel damp.

                                                       You're standing in a stream of water.

You look back up. The desert isn't... deserted.

                                                                                            You see a sapling begin to grow.

                                                 

Atlas Hands, Benjamin Francis Leftwich.

Warmth. The very physical manifestation of it. Like chocolate melting in my mouth. Except this wasn't my mouth. It was my mind. It was like melting into a puddle of nothingness. It was just so

warm.

Hues of orange streaked across the sky. The sky seemed to have forgotten to be blue. My eyes began to defocus and everything was a confusion of orange and

orange.

The scene changes to a moonlight night. A full moon hung lopsided in the sky. It looked like a defiant little child, not wanting to conform. Not wanting to obey. A single streetlamp illuminated a deserted garden. Where are the children now? They are asleep. I am not. Sometimes, I get caught in a never ending loop of wanting sleep but being gripped by a familiar

insomnia.

Soft guitar plays in the background, but I eventually sense an alien intrusion in my ears. Or is it just my mind? Probably both. I read a word in some book somewhere

'sanity'.

I don't suppose that makes any sense to me. There is no place for sanity here. There is only confusion.  Orange, gooey confusion. It's a welcome change. I lie back down, eyes closed, trying to close my head. It doesn't work. I wonder what it's like to

dream.

I did dream that night. The first dream that I wanted to remember. The first memorable dream in a long, long time. Two people sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere. Unconsciously swinging their legs back and forth. Consciously looking into each others eyes. Each others souls. That place seemed oddly familiar. It seemed

warm.