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Conscious narration through a subconscious world. |
It is animated on television A game of some sort In a stadium, filled with paper cut outs of fans Cheering without moving their limbs Or lips Just swaying In unison Somewhat, maybe not I cannot tell, focus is lost momentarily Now I am there, now I am a fan in the bleachers It is no longer a stadium I am flesh and bones, not cardboard We are outside The game is outside There are people all around On the ground outside Ignoring the game Worrying for some reason It is nighttime I see a train The train is in the mountains The mountains that surround all of us And the game The game continues, I think I am on the ground now, somehow Away from the game The train seems more important It is lit with Christmas lights Lights of all colors It is beautiful And getting closer The tracks build themselves as the train moves forward I feel something behind me Its presence is strong and new It wasn’t there before But then I felt it and it was there I turn to see a station It is a train station and it is awful With barbed wire fences surrounding real people Their bodies are wrapped tightly, because it’s cold Their faces are sad, pleading with the train not to come But I want the train to come It is beautiful I turn back around I don’t want to look at the sad people But now the fence has captured me too It’s there now, between me and the game The game continues, I think I can’t really see And I am worried And through the barbed wire I see the beautiful train It gives me hope Travel faster, travel faster Without a word from anyone I know that it is my train I will board it Because it is my train, and I mustn’t miss it I must get to where I am going But where am I going? “Auschwitz!” screams a lady from somewhere And here is the train, it has arrived And I see now, I can see now, Amongst the lights, What is painted in red paint on the train And reflected in the eyes of the people In the prisoners’ eyes – the red symbol And the beautiful lights on the train spell Merry Christmas And we are all boarded by faceless men And we know. Now the train is beginning to move It is slow and silent And I am scared But I am outside, somehow It is a balcony attached to the side of the car It is not strange, it is normal somehow I can feel the wind, the train is gaining speed There is forest on either side And the sky is blue now And I see her I know her, somehow I hear her voice “We’re going to escape” She just came out to the balcony And I feel safe The wind is blowing hard The train is moving too fast We cannot jump And now I see how I see how we can escape It was not there before But then I felt it and it was there A sleigh It is wooden and has skies And it is attached to the balcony There are two others with us now Boys I do not know, but they are my brothers And I do know them, somehow And we are all in the sleigh now We have climbed in The woman My brothers And I And I pull the pin The one pin that connects us to the train And we are free Sliding on the grass between the train and the forest And we are gaining speed Moving past the train, somehow Moving faster, I can see the people we left behind on the train And I am sad for them But they do not see me I do not know why But I am glad that they do not see me It would be worse for them if they did A turn is coming up We are moving past the train And moose are ahead now In the way of our sleigh They are all looking at me Into my eyes I don’t want to hit them There are many of them And they scatter No casualties But now there are antelope ahead They are all looking at me too We will hit them if they don’t move There are many more of them than there were of the moose We are passing them now They have scattered also No casualties But ahead again! More animals Goats this time Only a few They are looking at me I can tell, somehow They are trying to move But they are slow, too slow probably I am getting anxious They are moving slowly, and they are scared Two have gotten away now But one remains We hit it! I can see the corpse behind us It’s mangled and getting smaller as we move away I’ll look away It was my fault, somehow The train is well behind now And on a different course I can see it moving into the mountains We are moving around a turn I cannot see around the bend The trees are obstructing my vision Hopefully there are no more animals That we could kill Now I see water It is a small pond It is directly in our path It is unavoidable We will crash in that pond I brace myself And we crash I am in the water now The pond is surrounded by many animals Both dead and alive Squirrels, raccoons, deer, sparrows, others Both dead and alive The grass is lush, and the surrounding mountains create the illusion of a cave I see the train in the far distance Crossing a bridge The bridge is over the stream feeding this pond The bridge is much too big for such a small stream It also connects two mountain peaks There are no Christmas lights on the train anymore, somehow I hear a voice It is a woman’s voice That I cannot understand And I see her now She is mad I don’t understand her voice, but I know Somehow We are all in the water The train has gone out of sight The woman just called herself the proprietor I understood that, somehow And now a man has appeared I remember his face But he is faceless And I do not know from where He is a mean man But I cannot understand him either He is talking about the woman The proprietor “She is a mermaid” I can understand him now We have crashed into her home This is her pond, she says These are her animals But she has legs and feet I remember the man now The water isn’t cold or warm It is uncomfortable and restricting And thick And I see something of interest on the lush grass Amongst the animals Both dead and alive It is a snow globe and it is beautiful And I shake it And the snow falls lightly But now I see there is a girl inside She is playing the piano I am out of the water now The girl is beautiful Her music is beautiful And I am watching her There is a lamp beside her Illuminating her beautiful music And beside her on the other side is something A phone on a table It is ringing I cannot hear her music She is still playing, ignoring the phone But the ringing is drowning her music Her music was beautiful Now she has stopped playing She is looking at the phone It is ringing She tries to play again but the phone will not stop Why doesn’t she answer it? I don’t want her to I don’t know why And she doesn’t The phone stopped ringing She is playing again Beautifully But now the ringing again The phone is ringing again She has stopped playing and is looking at the phone She has stood up now She has the phone in her hands The ringing has gotten louder She is not beautiful anymore, somehow I miss her beauty And her music The phone just crashed into the piano She threw it And the piano collapsed It is unplayable now And the phone is broken, too But still ringing And she is pulling the cord But it will not come unplugged She is pulling and pulling Pulling and pulling It will not come unplugged And she cannot see to where the cord goes It goes into darkness Away from the light of the lamp And she is scared to travel into the darkness And I feel her fear But she goes She is walking with the cord in her hand And she is scared The ringing phone and the broken piano behind her She has disappeared into the darkness I cannot see her I need to see her I do not know why It has been many moments now She is still in the darkness The phone is still ringing The piano is still wrecked The ringing seems to get louder and louder It is generic and loud But becoming beautiful in her absence And I miss her She is still in the darkness The lamp is still shining Now all is illuminated! The lamp is off, but light shines, somehow I see the room The room is full of pianos Infinitely The ringing has stopped And I see her At a wall A white wall With her hand on a light switch The cord is plugged in at her feet But there is no more ringing And she can see too All of the pianos All of them surrounding her broken piano like mountains And the ringing has stopped And I am glad But I do not know if she is She is walking to another piano She has sat down And she is playing again Beautifully Her music is beautiful But I cannot tell if she is |