Excerpt Saturday, September 19, 2009 |
Act One
I awoke slowly, as if my mind was swimming toward the surface from a deep pool of amniotic fluid.
With each leaden stroke I felt myself getting closer to consciousness. I imagined that I could see, even though I have not the strength to open my eyes.
It is cold.
I am lying on a cool surface, perhaps metal. Everything is still, except for the shallow breathing that I recognized as my own.
When I finally opened my eyes I could see nothing.
I am lying on my side, curled up with my knees almost up to my chest, one arm clasped between my legs and the other under my head.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out some shapes. I am lying on an infinite sea of steel. Suddenly gaining control of my limbs, I bolted upright and gasped, making a sound that sounded alien to me in its fear and confusion.
Slowly I got on my feet.
It was as though I had to learn how to walk, bringing one foot forward after the other, teetering, unsure. But after I could control myself, fear had taken over and I find myself running - from what, I am unsure.
Act Two
The sound of my heels slapping against the steel floor sounded like clash cymbals gone insane.
An infinite corridor stretched before me.
The floor here is made of another material - concrete perhaps, or wood. My steps sounded different, less hollow, its pitch a few notes lower then before.
The wall to the left was dotted with a row of windows. Garish light streamed in from outside, its color intermittently changing. Yellow, red, blue and green. There seemed to be no pattern or sequence to it.
Slowly, I walked toward one of the windows.
The glass was wet on the outside with a clear liquid. Is it rain water, I wondered. As I brought my face closer to the glass, I saw my reflection, surrounded by thousands of miniature faces on the droplets of moisture. A sense of bafflement and wonder overwhelmed me.
I could not recognize the face reflected on the glass. Large green eyes, a small sharp nose that is almost beak-like, full lips, framed by a face that is thin and pale. It is pretty. But how strange that I could not recognize it.
There had been no rain, for as long I could remember.
A deep rambling sound startled me from my reverie. It came from deep within this place that I am imprisoned in, a metallic screeching growl from deep within the structure.
I began walking towards the tunnel, urged by the mechanical groans that surrounded me entirely.
Act 3
As I walked, I felt a strange sadness seep into my consciousness.
I find no sense for it, but with every step I took it got heavier, until I began to find it difficult to breath.
Who am I, I wonder. What is my purpose here. I could only make out barren landscapes from the outside. A burnt and lifeless landscape that stretched on as far as the eye can see.
The sadness grew and grew. When I can take it no longer, I got on my knees and wept.
When I found strength I got up and started moving again.
I have reached a room that is completely white. A clean scent, like fresh grass and pine, permeated the air.
In the middle of room, on a heavy wooden table painted blindingly white, was an old telephone. The telephone, which I remember seeing in storybooks when I was a small, was painted a dark shade of teal. It had a dial but there were no numbers on it.
As I contemplated what to do, the telephone started to ring. It did not emit a ring tone, as I expected it to, but a soft, haunting tune. Like what you would hear from a musical box. Its dial had also started to turn, slowly, almost imperceptibly.
I picked up the receiver and placed it near my ear. On the other side, static. Then, as if from an old record playing from a gramophone, came a voice.
It was a man's voice, deep, yet somehow gentle. It sounded as though he was very far away, his voice breaking up ever so frequently, but when it came through it sounded like the most beautiful thing. It sounded like he was singing, whispering:
Tomorrow the sun will set you free.
It is then that I felt memory seeping back, drop by drop.
Act 4
The world was gone. There was nothing left.
But you knew a way.
And I remember now.
I think of your face as I walked. Where I am headed, I am unsure, but with you as my compass, I know that I cannot be wrong.
I arrive in a space that is devoid of light. I waited, sure that this is the right place.
From above, a beam of white light. The buzz of machinery springing to life. A thin hum, mechanical whirring, punctuated by electronic beeps. I thought of your voice.
Slowly, I ascended. Floating, weightless, to the top, bathed in the strange white light from above.
Act 5
The observatory.
There used to be a glass roof here, but there is nothing left of it but a steel skeleton.
This was our place, where we met. You knew that, didn't you?
As I walked forward, small beads of moisture fell on my face. It is rain. There is water. There will be life.
Is this your gift for me?
I find myself able to see. The darkness is lifting. I glanced at the sky, and found that it looked as though it is frozen in the midst of an explosion.
Light had started to peek through the clouds, the first rays of hope.
The barren landscape below will soon turn green.
With the rain. With the sun.
The air will no longer smell of dust and smoke.
It may have taken a hundred and forty years.
But I know that you are here watching this with me.
End
I awoke slowly, as if my mind was swimming toward the surface from a deep pool of amniotic fluid.
With each leaden stroke I felt myself getting closer to consciousness. I imagined that I could see, even though I have not the strength to open my eyes.
It is cold.
I am lying on a cool surface, perhaps metal. Everything is still, except for the shallow breathing that I recognized as my own.
When I finally opened my eyes I could see nothing.
I am lying on my side, curled up with my knees almost up to my chest, one arm clasped between my legs and the other under my head.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out some shapes. I am lying on an infinite sea of steel. Suddenly gaining control of my limbs, I bolted upright and gasped, making a sound that sounded alien to me in its fear and confusion.
Slowly I got on my feet.
It was as though I had to learn how to walk, bringing one foot forward after the other, teetering, unsure. But after I could control myself, fear had taken over and I find myself running - from what, I am unsure.
Act Two
The sound of my heels slapping against the steel floor sounded like clash cymbals gone insane.
An infinite corridor stretched before me.
The floor here is made of another material - concrete perhaps, or wood. My steps sounded different, less hollow, its pitch a few notes lower then before.
The wall to the left was dotted with a row of windows. Garish light streamed in from outside, its color intermittently changing. Yellow, red, blue and green. There seemed to be no pattern or sequence to it.
Slowly, I walked toward one of the windows.
The glass was wet on the outside with a clear liquid. Is it rain water, I wondered. As I brought my face closer to the glass, I saw my reflection, surrounded by thousands of miniature faces on the droplets of moisture. A sense of bafflement and wonder overwhelmed me.
I could not recognize the face reflected on the glass. Large green eyes, a small sharp nose that is almost beak-like, full lips, framed by a face that is thin and pale. It is pretty. But how strange that I could not recognize it.
There had been no rain, for as long I could remember.
A deep rambling sound startled me from my reverie. It came from deep within this place that I am imprisoned in, a metallic screeching growl from deep within the structure.
I began walking towards the tunnel, urged by the mechanical groans that surrounded me entirely.
Act 3
As I walked, I felt a strange sadness seep into my consciousness.
I find no sense for it, but with every step I took it got heavier, until I began to find it difficult to breath.
Who am I, I wonder. What is my purpose here. I could only make out barren landscapes from the outside. A burnt and lifeless landscape that stretched on as far as the eye can see.
The sadness grew and grew. When I can take it no longer, I got on my knees and wept.
When I found strength I got up and started moving again.
I have reached a room that is completely white. A clean scent, like fresh grass and pine, permeated the air.
In the middle of room, on a heavy wooden table painted blindingly white, was an old telephone. The telephone, which I remember seeing in storybooks when I was a small, was painted a dark shade of teal. It had a dial but there were no numbers on it.
As I contemplated what to do, the telephone started to ring. It did not emit a ring tone, as I expected it to, but a soft, haunting tune. Like what you would hear from a musical box. Its dial had also started to turn, slowly, almost imperceptibly.
I picked up the receiver and placed it near my ear. On the other side, static. Then, as if from an old record playing from a gramophone, came a voice.
It was a man's voice, deep, yet somehow gentle. It sounded as though he was very far away, his voice breaking up ever so frequently, but when it came through it sounded like the most beautiful thing. It sounded like he was singing, whispering:
Tomorrow the sun will set you free.
It is then that I felt memory seeping back, drop by drop.
Act 4
The world was gone. There was nothing left.
But you knew a way.
And I remember now.
I think of your face as I walked. Where I am headed, I am unsure, but with you as my compass, I know that I cannot be wrong.
I arrive in a space that is devoid of light. I waited, sure that this is the right place.
From above, a beam of white light. The buzz of machinery springing to life. A thin hum, mechanical whirring, punctuated by electronic beeps. I thought of your voice.
Slowly, I ascended. Floating, weightless, to the top, bathed in the strange white light from above.
Act 5
The observatory.
There used to be a glass roof here, but there is nothing left of it but a steel skeleton.
This was our place, where we met. You knew that, didn't you?
As I walked forward, small beads of moisture fell on my face. It is rain. There is water. There will be life.
Is this your gift for me?
I find myself able to see. The darkness is lifting. I glanced at the sky, and found that it looked as though it is frozen in the midst of an explosion.
Light had started to peek through the clouds, the first rays of hope.
The barren landscape below will soon turn green.
With the rain. With the sun.
The air will no longer smell of dust and smoke.
It may have taken a hundred and forty years.
But I know that you are here watching this with me.
End
