This is the recount of a dream I had on the day before my mothers birthday. It was strangely emotional and real. The setting was at my grandmothers house in Newark only the setting itself was distorted, almost like I had been in some alternate universe so it was strange and oddly decadent. This is what happened.
There was a stench in the air. Almost thick enough for no one to notice it. Maggots and flies swarming, plaguing the air, but no carcasses.
He seemed so resolved. I chased him out of the front door, this figure from my youth that I’d had this strong emotional belonging with– this strong emotional connection with. “But where are you going?” I said. He didn’t respond. He only looked and stared and continued to walk down the stairs that at one point he had climbed. “What are you thinking, please tell me!” I said. “I don’t think,” he mouthed walking backward. “Wait what? I cant hear you!” He repeated the movement with his mouth, almost as if it were secret.
The stench was louder here, and so was the presence of the flies; outside, in the air. But I ignored it because so did he, continuing to talk with flies walking across his face and eyeballs. “I don’t think!” He screamed. It’s almost as if I’m asleep, like I’m living in a reality I cant control!“ I stopped. Everything seemed to move backward, like a moment of clarity or revelation. "Well promise me you’ll try to find out why! Promise me you’ll try to find who sits in the sky!” He looked, then stormed away, with a suitcase I didn’t notice before.
And there it was, the culprit of the stench. My eyes had walked with him, and halted on a tree, were birds that had be gutted and hung in form and action like the work from an untalented taxidermist. Only it was as if God had sent arrows from the sky to murder and stop them. One fell from the tree from which it was planted previously. I couldn’t make sense of it. Only that I understood, I’d lost a friend and brother to the unnatural forces of this world.