WE are sitting in a balcony of a theater.
We, being everyone who is anyone random from my past, and me, lonely me.
I am shuffling passed the front row, who sit and watch nothing.
They stare out over a ledge of nothingness, which drops at their feet.
A wooden handrail at hip height the only thing between them and this dark, nothing space.
Am I inside? no. there are no walls.
Am I in the sky? maybe but then why is it lighter beneath us?
And why can't I see what they see?
I keep making my way, shuffling past their knees. Needing to push my weight against the barrier the wood creaks, questioning me.
I catch myself on someone. Slowly she tips- pausing at the tipping point.
I hook my finger under her collar, just holding her weight. If I move I'm gone. If i don't move- she is gone.
...
She slides forward but doesn't move farther away.
why am I only watching her??!
I reach out and brush passed her ankle, and then she is falling. Really falling. Speeding. I fear there isn't actually a bottom.
I realize I have continued the dream, creating a skydiving rescue team, who jump after fallen viewers to strap a parachute to them.
When really, I am just thinking about how I could have saved this person. Awake. Tensed. Sweating. Lying in bed with my eyes closed.
Nervously I open my eyes and I am not tired anymore.
At what point did I stop dreaming...?
