“Last Night’s Dream”
I am running through an office building.
It has an open plan layout but it’s like a maze or a labyrinth.
At some turns I encounter men in business suits sitting at conference tables talking casually.
It’s evening. Around 8 pm. New York City lights are shimmering outside the windows.
I’m searching for something and that’s why I’m running.
I look under tables and in boxes.
I find a deflated blow-up and I can’t make out what it is.
It’s inside out.
When I push it through to the other side it pops into shape.
It’s another office building.
I say out loud, “Oh, it’s Maxim.”
It appears to be the office building I worked in 20 years ago on 9/11.
Suddenly everyone in the building is running and searching too.
It’s all ending. All of it.
And we’ve been told that we can take only one memory with us.
One memory that made all of life worth living.
Only one of all the millions of memories can go with us.
And I am searching. Desperately.
And time is running out.
And it’s getting darker.
And I’m being sucked into a dark tunnel.
I’m reaching back towards the light for the memory I will take with me.
There’s such an urgency.
At the same time that I’m being sucked into the tunnel I’m reaching back to the light.
My whole life is flashing before my eyes like a slideshow on a daisy wheel.
And at the same time I’m sorting through mental files.
How will I know which one to choose?
I feel down into my body.
At the very last second, I know.
At the very last second, I know the one memory to take.
The one memory that made it all worth it.
It’s being born.
- Sept 26, 2020