Thursday, December 08, 2016
JUST BEFORE DAWN, A DREAM
I nod. I'm not sure but the last thing we need right now is uncertainty. There is fire all around us. There is water all around us. We are leaving behind something important but there is no time to waste.
"This way," I say. We are holding hands and I lead you down a hallway, down a flight of stairs, out a front door. There are people on the street. All of them seem panicked.
You see the people who love you. They rush to be with you. Form a circle around you to make sure you're safe. You drift away with them. The look on your face is happy, relieved.
I start to follow you but there are barricades and badges. People from the TV station tell me I have to get to the booth to keep the newscast on time. When I get there I see you in the background of the live shot. You're putting up a Christmas tree. A cat is the star atop the tree.
I cue the reporter doing the live shot. It's me. He goes into the house we were in and up the stairs. There is a light at the top of the landing and what looks like a giant egg in the shape of a valentine's heart, half-buried in a nest of straw. It starts to crack open.
"You think you know what's inside," the reporter says. "But you have no idea."