Friday, March 23, 2012

Dream fragment, 3:45 a.m.


A young man, of sixteen or seventeen and a stranger to me, leads me to a table, atop which is a curious arrangement of small objects, seemingly of a scientific nature. “If I die,” he says quietly, and with the utmost reverence for his work, “I want you to have them.” He looks at me, to be sure I understand.

Yes, I think, some things, like transparent bells with tiny copper gears inside.

And hummingbirds — do they not have names they forget to tell?


18 comments:

temporal rooms said...

you travel far in the wee hours my friend.

nouvelles couleurs - vienna atelier said...

can this to be somthings like we must to carry on some important things and toughts of other people?

Joseph Hutchison said...

Wonderful! In a dream about remembering (a legacy), your hummingbirds have names they forget to tell. DId I ever tell you I envy your psychic symmetry?

William Michaelian said...

Battered wings, Robert.

I wonder, Laura. Maybe so.

If you did, Joe, the hummingbirds have forgotten that as well. Did I ever tell you they find nectar in your words?

Jonathan Chant said...

I admire your power of recall, William. A really nice image...

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Jonathan. That’s just it — this is only part of the dream; there was more to it that I can’t remember. But I almost can, if that makes any sense.

Peter Greene said...

Maybe you will be shown the machine again, in one form or another. A lovely thing to read about...

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Peter. Maybe I’ll even find myself inside it.

Jan said...

Even in your dreams you are writing stories, my dear friend :)

Beautiful~~~

William Michaelian said...

Thanks very much, Jan. It’s a strange life, to be sure. But I’d miss these night-visits if they decided to pass me by.

rahina q.h. said...

what a wonderful title... one we can all relate to... and then the dream itself, well that is like opening a beautifully wrapped box and realising the present inside was transient and had escaped leaving only an after image....
thank you for this William.
r.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Rahina. Your lovely description might also be applied to this life.

Anthony Duce said...

I envy this ability to keep even the fragments of dreams from fading into the jumbled thoughts of waking up.

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Anthony. To be sure, I’m not always successful; and often enough they do become jumbled. That said, I think habit is also a part of saving them before they slip away.

Geckostone said...

I like what Jan said. Hint, hint, William, this sounds like the opening scene to a great novel, and written by you it would be pretty cool stuff! Deb

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Deb! Hmm... only two or three hundred pages to go... I think I’ll sleep on it.

Lurid said...

You create such a lovely scene in such a small space. Beautiful writing.

William Michaelian said...

Lurid, thanks very much.