Deep In A Dream Chamber

It still bleeds through; a fuck here, a bitch there, but then you just have to turn up the little dial. As long as you keep your eyes closed you won’t have to come back. The music you hear is an old boom box and not the headphones far away in your bedroom. A woman sleeps next to her stereo subathing. You are on a beach and there is a horse there and you know you two will be best friends. You’re running towards it. A plate crashes to the ground and you believe there to be a Greek wedding procession nearby.

The woman talking about a knife is actually an old cop show. In the forefront of your mind, there is the horse who is now at apple feeding distance. He’s beautiful and looks like a speckled dove. You mount without any real trouble. The TV gets louder, angrier. You feel contempt for the old man in his lawn chair whose watching the show; you feel contempt for the characters although you don’t know why. The feeling is passing. You mount the horse easily even though he seems to be a few hands taller than a Clydesdale.

Then there’s a gunshot and you can’t explain it. The horse starts into a full gallop and your hanging on to it’s neck for dear life. He knows that the noise is bad and he’s running away. It’s an awfully simple reaction but it makes more sense than yours. The sirens blare, warning you of dangerous tides. You know you can’t hide or find shelter from the waves. Soon they will find you and then you’re back in your room, in your parents’ house where everything has gone wrong.