a short story, a description, a character


REALITY

This place is so depressing compared to make believe. Everything was so happy, and cheerful there. Positive. Of course we would defy that too. We would defy everything. Now we are back, back in this grey, urban world, we laugh in their faces. It was a dream world. It didn’t exist. ‘Here, let us wrap you up in this nice warm safety blanket, then we will throw you out, onto the dark, damp streets of reality.’ And so there we were. Sprawled in a heap on the pavement, waiting for a kind, smiling face to come and help us up, dust us off, and feed us with a warm cup of cocoa. But no smiling face came. Cold, hard people would pass, and we would call out softly, using our inside voices. But they didn’t hear. They didn’t even notice us. So we raised our voices. We yelled, we screamed. We beat our fists against their faces, looked into their unseeing eyes. And we saw. We saw what it was. What this world was. It was Reality. And we fell. Down, down. Only a few had the sense to drag themselves back up. And so we littered the streets. Crawled on our hands and knees, savages, a threat to society. Oh, what it does, to believe. The imagination is cruel. I’ll throw you out as suddenly as it let you in.

And so, as we finally began to regain ourselves, we came to grips with that hard-faced bitch called Reality. We told her “okay, you win.”

For, she had. She had won. She had sucked us dry of our positive, bubbly sparks. And yes, we would try to get that back, try to imitate it. But that was the problem. We were imitating it. It wasn’t real. Fake. A failure.

And we felt that. And we felt the cold, and remembered the warmth. The warmth of the dream world, where we had everything we needed. And, yet, here we sit, shivering. Our thin, bedraggled souls quivering in the icy wind, worn thin, from heartbreak, and disappointment. And we remember the warmth, and the bitter taste of bile fills our mouths. We place our heads in our hands, and let go. And we collapse. We appear to be sitting there, still as a statue, but the icy wind has blown us away. We are no more, just shells, husks of what we were… claimed by Reality.


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HEADCOUNT!

Comment by 15

18!

Comment by Lila

15!

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