Sometimes he would leave; sleep was kind of like day release when he dreamed. The nights when the heights shone at their brightest, right through the ceiling and shut eyes.

He’d wake up exhausted and know that he had lived.

John studied the alarm clock. It was still beeping. The sound echoed from the dream still fading. By the time he left the domicile it will have faded completely. Such was his drive not to be late for work again.

The screen of the computer reminded him that he was distracted. Mind was not focused on the task at hand and John feared the consequences. Funny how it became so late so quickly. A moment ago he was standing in his underwear in front of the mirror making sure he was still 23, good looking and healthy as anyone who eats microwave dinners can be.

And it was lunchtime, his favourite time of the day. Time to smile at the receptionist, and the other one, the one who wasn’t young and pretty. Make some mistake, look too long and you’ll be internally kicking yourself the whole way to the food… food glorious food. Crap I looked too much at the pretty girl, now she thinks I’m some sort of pervert, no wonder she didn’t want to sit beside me on public transport. What do I care I’m not even attracted to the attractive, and what would I say to her? Maybe I could tell her that I only seek her company because it would validate my assumed identity. I’m sure she would be greatly amused, just like the last one, who runs from me.

John paid for his food, he disliked the woman who served him his sandwiches. They all made the experience so impersonal but she, the harridan sneered through every moment of her service. He was afraid of her, afraid she might expose him for the man if you could even call him that so out of touch with the plight of the working man (real one) or woman (doubly real because of) love, which they seem to give on short term lease.

Back to the desk, it was time to be distracted again, but first, the food that we all craved. Man we were hungry. The belly screamed from below and the mouth eagerly prepared, too eager but that’s what napkins are for. It was a good time, I enjoyed myself, John enjoyed himself and no one else was there.

Time to create something. Feel validated. This is what artistic license was all about. Create or it expires. Renew renew renew, this is the first day of my life and look, see what I’ve done, see it there made by me gripping you to your core. Look at it, it wants you to look at it when it moves you. Are you moved? Don’t worry there are plenty more. Many to choose from. None as good or as inspired as this.

Boss is impressed. The impression is clear, paranoia is cloudy.

Happy are those that are happy.

End

Start

John stared in at his reflection, he no longer saw the 23 year old boy but a man.

John was happy, he didn’t worry so much about losing his hair as when he still had it, and he often stared at the pretty girls twice as long as it would take them to pass comment.

John was a homeless man, he was free to wander through the garbage heap of life and find the hidden treasures buried there. He slept at bus shelters and had acquired a connoisseur’s taste for soup.

John had nowhere to go, nothing to do and his beard often scared small children, yet he was happy.

Greatest recommendation for a nervous breakdown you’ll ever meet.

And he’ll sing and dance for a dollar.

Suddenly the sun jumped out, the sky lit up and all around me were the purest of souls all smiling at the sun in gratitude for warmth. Something was unnatural, I couldn’t hear anything! There was no sound, where was the sound? If I listened very hard I knew I’d hear the screaming again but there was no sound from anywhere and I just wanted to smile up at the sun like everyone else. The darkness behind was so unappealing, that must be why people are screaming, I looked behind and noticed that everyone who was screaming was behind me, their broken bodies strewn before the my image, which was fine but I had to leave, the wolves were getting closer and they wouldn’t show mercy to anyone, least of all their master.

As soon as I reached the forrest it was time to dance, the trees were waiting for me and they were scared, they are always scared. They tried to grab me but I danced like one of their leaves falling far from the tree. The wind howled angrily and blew me to safety where a pond swallowed me up. On the other side of the pond where I was spat out was the sun. The pond was angry like the wind but I didn’t care, I wanted to be warm, the water had taken away my purity. My robes were no longer white, there were no longer robes, only skin. Wet skin.

I couldn’t dance any longer so I fell asleep beside a tree, it was nice to be held so close to one much bigger and stronger. When I awoke I knew there must be something beautiful about this tree:I wasn’t made of wood. So I knocked it down and made a raft. Its sticky blood covered my naked skin. The work made the world strangely clearer. I felt like a murderer, so impure that not even the water wanted me, nor the dead tree and so I kept afloat almost all the way to the sun.

I was 14 trees away from the end of the world when rather than fall of edge I decided to get out of the raft. Fear and realisation hit me, I was doomed, every action predetermined. Fate had dictated to me where I was to go and I must free myself . I had already freed myself from something. The raft slipped off the edge of the earth, I watched it from the safety of the long grass. This is a dream I thought, and I don’t want to change anything, I want to be changed, I want to love every blade of grass. So I did that for a while until I saw the sun beams grinning my direction, perverted light greets every new encounter. There is something new under the sun. Everything refused to make sense. A yellow brick road was not 40 feet from well, my feet. Maybe the wizard would be able to help me I thought as I skipped along laughing to myself.

The end of the road left me standing in front of a great house, it sat under the sun. The air seemed to demand that things made more sense, my feet hurt from the journey. The door didn’t answer when I called it, only the window gave way. I met my first person, he didn’t much like the sight of me. Snooty looking butler with a great moustache.

“Can I help you Miss?” he asked
“Oh that’s right I’m a woman now”
“Weren’t you always?”
“Not when things didn’t make sense”
I walked through the door he guarded, swung my hips a little. This was going to be fun.

There was a party happening in front of me. Everyone was dressed so beautifully, the host raised a webbed hand filled with its own blood. The hand was not his, it twitched slightly and spilled a single drop on his bark coat. He was clearly angry, the webbed fingers dropped its charge and slipped from his hand. All eyes followed the terrified little hand scuttle across the floor and toward the door. It had escaped my notice up until this point that I was the host. My crown fit nicely upon my head, I knew it felt powerful, it couldn’t be taken off.

Our eyes caught and would not release. I begun walking toward myself. I was aware that all the guests were now staring at me but I walked proudly, sexily. All I was interested in was myself and how powerful I looked. I could hear their voices saying how the tree blood complemented my figure but I only wanted to hear my own voice. Finally we met. I told me that I looked beautiful, I had already told myself that all the way here. I told me that I looked handsome and powerful, I smiled, a tear escaped so I kissed it away and killed myself.

The crown felt heavy, heavier than before but I could still see the sky. The sun above looked different from directly below.

The guests chanted my name, I could feel their chants lifting me up into the sun. It shone my image everywhere, through my image I could smell the ground calling out in thirst. I could taste the little wolves crying from hunger and the pure ones all around offered themselves with their smiles. Something about this felt so familiar that when the screaming began again and I descended back to my guests I was starting to worry. I was made of wood. There was something new under the sun.

I couldn’t feel anything and it hurt so much. As I touched the ground everyone around congratulated me on my work. I felt proud, I was really something, well a part of something, rebirth. They talked and talked, they talked about complicated things, that made my head hurt. I was so proud but my crown was so heavy.

The door openned and the moment I was waiting for happened finally, I wasn’t sure whether it had been several minutes, hours or years, time was flying all manner of directions but her beauty was breathtaking. I couldn’t breath. I raised my hand. Everyone thought I was making a toast. It spilt a drop on my bark, my face went red. In front of the guests and this beauty. I let the hand go free. Spilling it’s blood all across the floor.

She must be a queen, she is so perfect I thought, looking at her naked feet, then legs, up to your chest and oh those eyes, I could get lost in those eyes. Time stopped and I could breath again. We stood these staring at each other, I was amazed she could move, I was paralysed. I think everyone knew what was coming next, all apart from the tear, I hope. She must have kept the knife warm, it was a much nicer way to slip away from a dream.