THE SKELETON DREAMS

THE SKELETON DREAMS

There we stood, side by side, the two of us together, your hand pressed softly into mine and mine like callused leather.  While in dark and abstract symmetry grey clouds stretched out forever and we sought the nearest shelter to escape the maddening weather.

We sprinted 'cross the gloomy park, down grim deserted lanes, but the heavy droplets found us there we could not elude the rain.  The wind howled like a spirit it hurled us up the street.  We felt like we were flying, we couldn't even feel our feet.

Then we were wet, depressed, on marble steps, beneath an ornate wooden crest at 'The Museum of Fable and Memory' and t'was there we took our rest.  Above us white doves clustered on the gantries, on the eves, whilst high atop the frosty towers we could see the gargoyles breathe.

The storm was now a misty veil drawn down around our eyes.  The building begged us, "Enter.  Come in it's warm and dry".  We found ourselves confused and lost in the dank disquieting gloom in a place of endless corridors and, still, more endless rooms.

In a palace of stale history where nothing ever moved, where animals held strange poses like a tragic frozen zoo.  We soon lost our direction in that mansion, in that maze, so we paused before a cabinet and the thing that it displayed.

Stripped bare he stood before us, ageless, timeless, trapped in glass, his bones exposed to prying eyes, his fragile form unmasked.  Each bone held firmly in its place by tiny little pins.  While ink stained numbers on paper discs dotted each and every limb.

And on that plinth where he reposed, on that dais, on that stand, a text embossed in gold proclaimed 'The Skeleton of Man'.  Then you asked of me that question all children ask in time, my answer was expedient, "He sleeps", my sly reply.

What mischief raced across your face?  What bright delight?  What schemes?  What thoughts now caught in swirls of light too innocently gleam?  "If you say he's only sleeping in these halls of academe, then what secrets is he keeping?  Dad, of what do skeletons dream?"

WOULD YOU LIKE MORE of 'THE SKELETON DREAMS'?

Comments

[Lisa]

Yes please! More please!...

[Amanda]

It's great so far, would love to read more. Thanks

[Wendy Barker]

Yes please. I want to find out what skeleton's dream of. The life that was once their's, a lost love or many a dear friend they never got to say goodbye too.

[Casey]

Love it.

[EB]

Really excellent, The rhythm gives the whole thing such energy and the imagery, both written and drawn, is captivating. I hope there'll be more. Thank you very much,

[Peta]

I would love to read more, your work is captivating

[Renate]

Don't leave it there.... what happens next??

[Natalie]

I feel I must parrot the rest: what do skeletons dream? Do they dance in their dreams? Do they dream of being alive (having never dreamt of being dead myself I doubt they would dream life)? Are their dreams as wonderful as ours? Or as normal? Do they feel scared if they dream they are falling?
Please, please, please answer me with another few stanzas.
Natalie

[Karen G]

Absolutely wonderful artwork. Beautifully lyrical and intriguing story - yes I want more!!