Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Meligalas


Unaware I had made the trip, I found myself in Meligalas, in my friend’s kitchen. The oven door was open, and Vassilis was tending to some chicken. As if it were an outdoor barbecue, there were live flames in the oven. It was time to turn the chicken. Vassilis did so by hand, unaffected by the flames as they licked his fingers. After he’d closed the door, we were joined by his daughter and son, and then his wife, all three of whom looked at me with curiosity as they passed through the room. I followed them to a long table. Soon we were joined by what must have been a dozen or more people. Greek voices, Greek conversation — except for one gray-haired man with a wide head, gray stubble on his face, and a large, dark, almost black mustache. He greeted me in broken English. I don’t remember what he said. The dream ended there. I looked at the clock. It was 2:42 a.m.


Update:
In the Forum: What liberty a loosened spirit brings!

14 comments:

Woman in a Window said...

I wonder how it is that you walk through your life, your house? Does your foot fall heavy? Do you resonate? Are you really here? I think of stories and poems and movies, old family stories, and feel the weight of the weightless, that which is not really here taking up residence. It is as though a ghost has mass in the mind. I think on you.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

I wonder too, Erin. Sometimes I feel like that ghost, as if I were something solid that you could put your hand through.

vazambam said...

Leave it to you to finally put Meligalas on the map with this uncanny dream where even the particulars give off the scent of your worldly presence, as if you were actually here. So, before I serve the chicken, when are you going to make this dream come true?

William Michaelian said...

Good question, especially since this is the second time I’ve paid you a visit — or is it you who have been visiting me?

nouvelles couleurs - vienna atelier said...

:-) oh William in this sad night it is so nice to read this dream, I don't know why, but it give me the sensation of warm (but not for the flame in ovenand the hand of Vassilis)
I don't know but remaind me to Milan Kundera too... yes now I kno why this warm feeling...

I like so much your dreams William, even if I feel a bit a voyeur, but it is so every sincery artist give to the other people himself

thank you to share with us your dream

William Michaelian said...

And thank you, Laura, for saying how you feel. Maybe the warmth you speak of was part of the dream’s purpose. And maybe dreams don’t really end when we wake up. Maybe our minds, spirits, have their own lives to live.

Old 333 said...

Having finally gotten proper internets again, I shook out all the things in my Google reader and sighed tapping leaningly on my fingers. This promptly appeared, and seems to me to be part of some really great novel or movie or...something. What are the new forms called? Anyway, William I liked this, and it made a pleasant moment for me, I think Vasilikilikis and his chixen flames will be remembered long by me.
P

William Michaelian said...

Peter, how nice to hear from you again, and to know you are contemplating the new forms. I don’t know what they’re called either. Maybe Vasily Vasilievich Vazambamapadapoulos knows.

-K- said...

Overall, a very life-affirming dream. Food, kitchen, friends, conversation...what could be better? Plus, your friend didn't burn his hands.

William Michaelian said...

Yes, and the spoken Greek — I could almost understand it....

Anthony Duce said...

I too have dreams like this, the one above…. similar anyway. The nationalities vary and it hasn’t happened in the kitchen, yet.

William Michaelian said...

Those must be diet dreams — fewer calories....

Aleks said...

A year ago,precisely ....and now I am in dream you dreamed in your friends kitchen....hmmm...feels good...

William Michaelian said...

And you are more than welcome....