In the Shelter of Dreams

Walking through the hallways of her mind, the long gauze curtains of memory fluttered images in front of her of the people she knew, the people she loved, and the people she was hiding from. As each silken projection caressed her skin – her face, her hands – she could feel the essence of their souls. To some she reached out a hand and ran her fingers along the delicate threads of illusion – hoping to feel something more human, more tangible. To others she danced by shyly afraid that if she touched she would leave a part of herself, afraid they would see more of her than she wanted them to.

The gentle breezes whispered familiar voices in her ears – songs of her mother, prayers of her grandfather, kind words of a dear friend, enticing murmurs of someone unknown. Softly, in the distance, the ethereal notes of a long forgotten tune raised and dropped and glided through the hallways toward her. She watched the music wrap around the ghostly reflections of her life and then wash over her like a wave of comfort. She was stranded contentedly in the recesses of her own mind. She wanted to stay there forever – lost in her past lost in everything that made her happy.

Without warning silence flooded every corridor. The soft breezes rushed out through the windows like a gale and in their absence the drapes hung lifeless from their rods. She had forgotten in her contentment that not all that lingered there in her mind was fond, not everything was friendly. A chest bound in a thousand locks and chains opened effortlessly before her revealing only a darkness – one that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar but one she had hoped to forget. As the darkness seeped from the chest she watched as her body began to disappear starting at her feet and moving slowly and steadily upward. When her eyes were engulfed in nothingness she awoke to a world awash in sunlight. As she sat on the edge of her bed, the promise of a new day staring at her from outside the window, nothing had really changed. She still felt invisible.

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7 thoughts on “In the Shelter of Dreams

  1. This is the most hauntingly beautiful post I have ever read. Your words will stay with me for a long time. Thank you, Mariyah, for allowing your beautiful soul to shine through for all of us to bask in…

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  2. Incredible. Is it possible for 2 people miles apart from each other to share the same thought? I’m in Theatre and I’m putting up a production next Wednesday. The script I wrote in loving memory of my late best friend. It’s esssence: memories. The set: 15 metre long translucent gauze curtains. And no, I did not see your post before I wrote the script last year. I only chanced upon it today. Incredible. And you describe so rawly what I feel, especially your last sentence, about waking up in the morning, but still feeling invisible, like there’s this hole in you that you just can’t fill. Incredible.

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