Do you ever experience flash dreams?
They’re a common occurance for me.
I’m not sure how to describe them except in context of my life in the bay area and in an accelerated state of efficiency.
They are like daydreams on cocaine. Flashes, sparks, instantaneous images and experiences, pointed and poignant emotions evoked within seconds. Daydreams are apparently for the languorous who have the luxury of time to indulge in slow, soft, and savorful moments that leave long trails within the ether of memory and subconscious as they overlay the experience of the momentary or extended mundane.
Flash dreams are not like that. They are immediate. They grab your attention and suck you in within the span of time it takes to strike a match and for it to burn your fingertips.
While driving home earlier today I experienced one of these.
In it, the amorphous *you*, well, anyways, there was a *you* to whom I was experiencing this. This particular moment * you* were with me in a dark room where the shades were drawn as the far too warm sun seemed to lay burden and significance to every sensation. It was late afternoon and the only artificial noises came from outside with the occasional whitenosie background of cars and busses going by. Inside–the metronomic tempo of your Felix the Cat clock on the wall, the eyes and tail swung asymetrically against a white wall with darkness scarred across the expanse like jail bars instead of like blinds.
And I was sitting on the couch as *you* sat on the floor at my feet, weeping softly until you started hiccuping. And all I could do is stroke your hair, damp at your temples with sweat and the tears you’d wiped with the back of your hand against your cheek and ears, and swallow my terror — that I might not being strong enough to love you at your weakest and when you needed me most.