I can hear the scream of seagulls and the song of dancing waves. I feel the wind, playing in my hair. I think I’m by the sea… I can see the trees, passing me by faster than an eye can catch. I am riding a bicycle. Yes! I see the sun, hiding in the horizon and giving away her last breath of warmth. The impression is much stronger than the one I my world. That is not the same sun. I know it for certain – it is not the same sun I’ve seen before. It is impossible to look at. Its existence is a torture for my eyes and soul. What an unbearable thing beauty is – an eternity that lasts for a second, which we’d like to stretch out for the whole length of time.
The next second, my bike turns into a sports car and a crazy racer flies the biggest racetrack in the world. After all, my competitor is the sun herself.
I reach the speed that I can’t measure anymore. I feel the ground letting me go as I come closer to the sky. Am I a bird? Why not. I am one of the seagulls, dancing to the song of screaming waves. I can fly. Finally… I can fly.
Suddenly, my wings become heavy. I feel an unbearable pain in my back. It’s getting worse and worse: as a thousand knifes stabbing to my spine. The sunbeams turn into ropes. Fair shackles my arms, jealousy – my neck, lie – my legs, apathy – the heart. Gravitation becomes ten times stronger and pulls me back to earth. The more I resist, the stronger the pain gets.
The warmth of the sun is disturbed by the ruthless morning cold. The touch of a rough blanket tears my wings. I start feeling blind and the world fades away. It’s the morning sun. It brings me back to reality.
I open my eyes and the first thought in my head is ‘no’. Then comes an understanding that denial will not help. ‘Where am I’ – I ask myself. And then the whole collection of my problems lines up in front of my eyes and I finally realise – ‘I am awake’.
‘I am awake…’ – how I am supposed to live for the rest of the day when it started with such an awful thought? I roll to the other side of the bed, hoping my clock would give me a chance to spend couple more hours dancing with the seagulls in the arcs of the sky. Sadly, it looks at me with an evil smile which means it’s time to get up. I stand up, for a second lose my balance, and slowly move to the window. The sun keeps burning my eyes.
Okay, let’s give the world a chance, maybe it’s worth my existence. I look through the window and I see: I see Mrs. Petwood taking her dog for a walk – again. She does that eight times a day, probably because she fears to feel lonely.
‘Good morning, Annabel! How are you?’ – she waves to me. Shit, my disguise has been uncovered.
‘I’m great!’ – I lie and pull back. Wonderful – I’ve become a part of this morning mascarade. After awhile, I encourage myself to return to the window. I see Mrs. Petwood walking away. Suddenly, Cupckake starts running and splashing all the puddles around the street. It might have rained over the night, the air seems fresh., I can almost feel the wind, playing in my hair. But then, the rubbish truck disturbs a moment of pure understanding between me and nature. I sink back to apathy.
Suddenly, a sharp noise clutches my mind. It’s my phone. How can someone dare to disturb my observation?
After a minute, an answering machine turns on: ‘Good morning, sunshine! I’m jealous you can let yourself sleep until the afternoon, but it’s a beautiful day, so get your ass out of bed, I’ve made you pasta, your favorite! I’m worried, you haven’t left your room for over a week… And when you do, please, clean the house. Love you.’ Silence. From the beginning of the message, no living or dead thing in the room has moved. Neither did I. I continue my observations.
The cold walls of the houses nearby reminds me of a prison. What is it kept there? That’s the question I’d rather not answer. But I know what can destroy all the walls that keep us from living. It is freedom – liberation from the ropes that hold us clamped to the ground. The disposal of lies, fear, hatred and jealously. The love for life – it is the only opportunity to fly without the wings – letting your heart fly.
However, today is not the day for changes. My hope of finding love faded away together with the sound of passing rubbish truck.
I shut the curtains and linger back to bed, hoping that the next morning I will find at least a small grain of freedom in this world that I felt in my dreams.
Bluebird 