I can't remember if this was a dream

I can't remember if this was a dream

A Story by meltingtuba

I really can't. I just remembered it and... I... it was so strange... it couldn't be real. Don't know which Genre to put it it because it might have actually happened.


As I walked onto the withering grass of Woodruff Park I noticed a circle of lights and a collection of chairs, tables and oddly dressed humans. There were four of them, wearing neon clothing, all frozen into awkward gawking positions. Then, as if someone had flipped an “on” switch they began to move, pulling people, normally dressed people, from the audience.  I realized that those people were part of the action, the dance.  Gradually, more people arrived onto the grass and the show began.  They formed a circle and then broke apart, throwing off coats they were wearing and rushing to the chairs and tables.  This performance was called “Musical Chairs.”  They would sit, two to three per table, one would ask a question: “How do you feel?” and the other would answer: “Purple,” then they would repeat over and over, the same exact things.  I was getting really agitated and began wondering whether this was all that would be happening when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a woman, twirling and whirling on the grass.

As soon as I had sat down to watch, across the street I heard electronica music booming across the street.  There, in front of the office, a group of four men were dancing and jumping about, wearing business suits and carrying briefcases.  The cool air around me was exhilarating and I felt like dancing a jig. So I did.  I twirled all the way to another performance, this one with people in wheel chairs and others hiding behind trees. All the while I was never quite sure who was part of the performance and who was in the audience.  The dancers were dressed so normally that they would blend right into the crowd until they burst into dance. 

We moved from performance to performance.  Every time we began watching a performance another would march by and I would just have to see what was going on.  A woman in a black cape hurried us over to a gazebo. A man stood in the middle, surrounded by mirrors and a solitary door. Music was playing.  I think the song was called Sinner Man. The man’s facial expressions were indescribable.  He looked like he was going insane.  He scratched frantically where there was no itch, he banged on the door but there was no answer, invisible strings pulled his arms and legs but there was no relief, and intangible demons played with his thoughts.  A coat hung in midair and he grabbed it, put it on and began to spin like a top.  Then, off came the coat, off came another coat, and there went his shirt.    A guy stepped in front of me and began to clap to the music. Was he part of the performance?  Then the man without the shirt began to also clap. There went his shoes and his socks.  What would be next?  Then he put everything but the socks and shoes back on and he left out the door.

During all of the performances, a man was across the street blowing on a trumpet.  By blowing, I mean making loud annoying noises.   Instead of just irritating people, he was really signaling that there was an exhibition inside of the building beside him.  We went inside to a whole other weird world.  A woman wearing a mask escorted us in to kneel on oriental seat cushions on the floor.  A man stood on a raised block.  He wore a dog cone, a silver cape and velvet purple body suit.  My brother and I couldn’t control our laughter. On the floor in front of us were platters of fruit loops and garish candies.  The women directed us to throw and exalt the candy and fruit loops at the man on the platform.  A woman wearing a silver masquerade mask with cake all over here hands bowed to the man.  In the next room, a woman wearing a Russian trapper hat was banging on a wall and crying as another lady cooked breakfast with all ingredients and utensils on strings hanging from the ceiling. That was the last room in the exhibition.

© 2012 meltingtuba

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A very strange dream. Dreams are the doorway to real life. This dream is taking you to new places and new people. I like the locations and the description of the people. I had to read a second time for the enjoyment of the story. Thank you for the outstanding story.

Posted 9 Years Ago

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Added on July 18, 2012
Last Updated on July 18, 2012




I am so excited. That is because My birthday is Friday more..

Missy Missy

A Story by meltingtuba