The Dream

February 9, 2009
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A boy was running clumsily, he had no idea what made him want to run, but he was definitely running
away from something, or toward something. All around him, a labyrinthine of doorway passages called
to him, engendering his legs to move even faster toward the rooms. He took a moment to ponder and look
at his surroundings, he was in an empty maze-like structure, there were only 2 objects besides himself,
one was a fountain and the other, a harmless door. He self consciously gave a haughty laugh, and strode
toward the door. Was there anything else he could do? He thought not, and timorously opened it. A
resplendent chest was on the other side, waiting for him; he was about to get it, but then the enigma
unfolded'

'Ring! Ring !Ring! The clock struck four, and woke the man named Alan up. Questions were rife in
his head, yet he couldn't even answer one of them . Was it really a dream? He had always had acuity of
mind, and this so called dream, seemed more real to him, than the empire state building. He was too
obfuscated to keep on wondering; anyways, there was work to be done. He took off his dull Barney
pajamas, put on his sweater, and instantly ensconced a gun under it. There was no reason to expose the
badge since no one would question a harbinger of peace, at least, he thought no one would. He torpidly
opened the door, to find himself outside his house, unaware that events today would portend, his destiny.

Long-winded speeches and conversations were flowing around, but none were directed, at him. Just as
he saw the tower in sight, one laconic remark changed his life, 'Meet me tonight, I will mail you a
message saying where and how we'll meet, and good luck.' Alan, looked around, nothing was in sight,
but a lone dog. He was an obdurate person, and he wasn't about to become fearful, over one stupid
remark. A histrionic day, was read to follow. He was greeted at work by their usual concise greeting, and
then people just walked on, without debating, even if something offensive was said to them. He had to be
on alert for this job, and he had to have the courage, to control people for their own sake, and for his sake.
He took the elevator up, and instantly saw the same noxious sight. He was in his work room, and there
was an open window, where he could see all the people walking around, and he could see how they were
being poisoned. The people would acquiesce to his demands, no matter what they were. He was the
puppeteer, and they, his puppets, every one of their single movements, were controlled by his adroit
hands, yet he was too close-minded to acknowledge, that he had always been just another nonchalant
puppet. From his view point, they looked like bristles on the world, to him, they were an object of
opprobrium, a rancorous flame sprouted up every time he saw them, he hated them, almost as much as he
hated himself. His esoteric rise to leadership, deepened their hope, few saw Alan's odious side. He was
going to make sure, he would not show any largess, especially not to puppets. Yet change was coming,
whether Alan wanted it, or not.

Everything at work went right, no one was querulous, and every wan had given him an adequate
remuneration for his work while his boss was away, he opened all the packages and gifts, minus one
package, that had no address on it. He was too lackadaisical to do anything when he got home, but he got
a transient urge, to open the final packet. Inside was a letter, he read it twice with an ignorant attitude, and
for the first time that he could remember, he was very afraid. The letter read 'I beseech, you must change
your ways, while truth still exists inside, today will be your last chance to ameliorate, or you will fail.
Tonight I will meet you again, by the fountain, until then, I suggest you do some assiduous thinking, and
determine how you want it to end. Alan with no doubt, knew the letter was germane to all the dreams, that
had recently worsened. He scorned the thought that just passed through his head, he wouldn't do that, no
matter what happened. The deleterious letter, would have to be read again, and then, he had to go to sleep.
He was too tired, and whatever the letter was trying to pontificate, he would soon find out'

'Same place and time, only 2 things had changed , one was that the fountain was radiating, and the
other, was that a erudite old man, stood next to it. Alan, the boy, walked toward the fountain, and there
they both stood, next to the spurious fountain. At last, the old man spoke with a testy voice 'Are you too
supercilious to see what lies right in front of you?' Alan was starting to pay attention, and in this so called
world, he felt more persuasible, than anywhere else. He responded ' Who are you, and why am I in this
prosaic place?' The old man, almost barked a laugh and gave a superfluous comment ' You should stop
having such a cursory manner, I will only tell you one more thing. This is irrelevant to your task, but it
might help you if you fail, remember that everything is ephemeral, and that you have to be content with
what you have or get.' Alan made an attempt to portray an intrepid wolf, and was about to howl, when
the old man said 'No more questions, I have to leave, and more importantly, the countdown begins.'
Before he could talk, the old man said 'ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one', and Alan
nearly blotted out 'The countdown for what?' While the world was evanescent, you could barely here a
dog saying 'Your inchoate destiny, will be finished today, the countdown for your judgment, begins
anew.'

This time it was not the alarm clock that woke him up, but an implacable dog's bark, he somehow
thought he had seen the dog before, a thought at the end of his mind told him, that the dog had once
shown true camaraderie, and had saved his life, but that was impossible. He vaguely remembered the
dream, and laughed out loud. He had almost been on the verge of accepting the old man's cogent
statements. He believed no one, he could barely trust his own workers. He did the same as always, only
that today he showed his badge, and quickly fed the dog, who was not hungry, but abstemious. He opened
the door and adeptly took out two guns and shot, the whole city was a riot. Everywhere he saw, no colors
flourished, only gray flourished around every corner. He plodded toward his work with the dog, right next
to him. Everyone at his work eschewed him, only one person dared talk to him, ad even he, gave Alan, an
inimical gaze. He said, 'So, you decided to return after being gone a week? The whole city has been
persuaded to go against you. They are very capricious, I suggest you run away. Alan was stunned by all
this, and learned how nothing was confidential anymore, and how one of his own employees cajoled the
people, and acted in a demagogue. Instantly, an acerbic thought overwhelmed him and he got the two
guns out, he wasn't going to lose, not now'

' Alan didn't know how much time had passed, but he saw how much damage had been caused. His
sagacity had left him, and every single person in the building lay dead. Alan thought he had won, but
remembered the fortuitous encounter with the old man, and started to weep. He just realized, that if you
cut the string of the puppet's, two things will occur. One, is that puppets will no longer exist, and the
other, was the puppeteer would also, not exist. It was common knowledge, nothing could secure the
puppets for him, and he was no longer a puppeteer, for more than one reason. He jerked around, and
before he could see anything, everything went black. The last thing he heard, was what sounded like a
solemn bark. He could almost feel the dog was deprecating, his past efforts.


Alan woke with a start, and started sweating. He had to refresh his memory, he was a thirteen year old
kid, and was just having a bad nightmare. Alan started to relaxed, and accidently spoke out loud ' I guess,
it was just a dream within a dream.' He had slept in dishabille , and was too determined to go back to
sleep, so he did just that. Alan knew that nothing could hurt him while asleep, he would just wake up
over, and over again, for the first time in his life, he was right. Alan was too careless and sleepy, to notice
that this wasn't his room, that he was no longer in New York, and too frightened to see a fountain
radiating by a florid garden. He didn't even pay attention to the dog that was sitting next to the fountain, a
dog with a sign that had four words inscribed, almost permanently, on it. The sign said 'Again, you have
failed'.





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