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Rated: · Fiction · Experience · #1013197
I am not a writer, but had an interesting dream and decided to write it down.
The Tunnel


The scoreboard read 28 – 27, Nick’s high school alma mater with a narrow one point lead and possession of the ball. A huge 0:33 shown at the top of the scoreboard indicating a mere 33 seconds remaining in the game. While the crowd noise was deafening, somehow it seemed miles away, like the distant roar of a nighttime ocean. The quarterback dropped back to pass. Why, why are you going to risk throwing the ball Nick wanted to scream? But he was frozen in his seat and could not speak, could not move. He could not see outside of the narrow tunnel between his eyes and the player with a gold jersey dropping back to pass. Everything outside that narrow tunnel was somehow barely visible through a dense fog.

Suddenly, everything on the field was grinding to a halt as though the players were working themselves through molasses. The fog was getting thicker now and the tunnel getting narrower. A floating sensation came over Nick as his head involuntarily turned to his right. The tunnel was now wide and clear. And on the other end of that tunnel was his father’s face with his typical broad smile. In the midst of this huge crowd, Nick and his father were somehow alone, drifting above everything around them. And while everything in the stadium must have been chaotic, this moment in time was the most peaceful Nick could ever remember feeling. The conversation that ensued was not spectacular, nor profound. It was just normal, routine conversation that takes place between fathers and sons somewhere, everyday. Their heads nodded back and forth as they spoke, against a background as dead as night. As the two evoked laughter and intellect from one another, the comfort that Nick felt came from deep within and extended far beyond his physical body.

As quickly as the tunnel had become wide and clear, Nick was now being forced to see through the enclosing fog. The end of the tunnel began to move upward out over the field, and further and further away. And with the end of the tunnel went his father’s face still smiling and laughing. Nick’s head finally fell downward and his eyesight landed on the quarterback just as he released the ball. The ball spiraled into the chest of a player wearing a black jersey who promptly ran the 44 yards separating him from the end zone. The game had been lost on a play that should not have taken place.

Instead of yelling and crying out in disgust or dismay, Nick simply sat and smiled as if he were living in a separate world. A larger world that somehow encompassed the world he was witnessing before him. No, he did not like to lose. No, he did not like the way things turned out on the field. But, somehow, someway, Nick had had a conversation with his father six years after his father had passed away. The fog was completely gone now and Nick could see everything clearly for exactly what it was. Nick does not actually remember the words spoken during the conversation with his father. Indeed, the surreal episode is somewhat haunting. But it left Nick with a more powerful understanding of something he has never been able to completely understand before. True Inner Peace. So, while the words spoken will never be remembered, the feeling created will hopefully never be forgotten.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1013197-The-Tunnel