Tin Universe Daily #159
(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams
NO REFILL: WAIT UNTIL THE SUNSET DIES- PART 7
The
Dream Trail,
Right
now The Dream Healer is taking a little respite. Just returning from cleaning
up an old mess he is now deep in closed eyes and deep in a need for silence but
also in need of listening ears.
Within
The Dream Trail when you speak you never know what sort of ears you may find
friendly to listen to you. All depends on where you are.
‘And
here I always thought “castles built in the sky” was just an expression.’
‘Haven’t
you learned yet mate that nothing within The Dream Trail is just an
expression?’
Sitting
on the edge of a sidewalk jetted out from the steps of the surrounding walls of
a small castle floating in the air sat Delta, known in these parts officially
as The Dream Healer, and sitting with him was a worker pigeon on his break
named Gamache.
An
old pigeon who sounds like he came from some Australian such place.
Delta’s
red duster jacket blew back and then over his head from the winds and the red
Mars dust that lives on it fills the air giving the area of sky the castle was
floating in a reddish tent to it.
Almost
like a sunset.
But
more like death.
‘How
is the construction going?’
Delta
talked to the worker pigeon as he scratched at the skin on his left hand
thinking about a mission that left him a burn that will not heal.
The
worker pigeon looked back over his shoulder at the half built castle as other
worker pigeons were going up and down on pulleys and walking along scaffolding.
Gamache
looked up at Delta gives a smile and takes another bite from his peanut butter
sandwich, ‘We’re getting close to a finish here I think and then we move onto
our next castle build.’
‘There
is always a next castle?’ Delta asked.
The
worker pigeon stopped eating and looked at Delta as serious as any pigeon could
look serious without trying to bite your hand off… or at least as serious as
any talking pigeon could look, ‘Mate if we stopped building that would mean the
children had stopped dreaming. Dump that, I say that would be sad. This is the
lives of my clan from which we live.’
Delta
stands up brushing off his jacket sending Mars dust flying and causing the
worker pigeon to sneeze. He will never be clean of that dust. Some dirt never
comes clean.
‘Leaving
already Dream Healer?’
‘I
do not belong here. This place is too pure.’
‘You
can stay. There is a place for everyone here. Sort of the point of all dreams.’
‘I
am not everyone and I have an appointment to keep. I appreciated the company
and calm though.’
Delta
steps off from the sidewalk into the sky.
Gamache
packs up his lunch leftovers and heads back to his job of painting the castle
walls. This castle will be painted green for a child in Boston dreaming of
traveling the world and fighting the good fight.
(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams
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