A Real Dream
The door barged open. Outside, is sunny. The sky let out an orange-ish, pale hue. I ran out. They are close behind. I leaped. The tiny leap lets out an air-light force with the strength of a jet pump that lifts me higher than it should. I floated for an instant, stretching my arms out, grasping the string of a helium balloon. It moves forward the moment my fingers land on it. The balloon shot fast and smooth but barely 30 cm off the ground, like a hoverboard from futuristic movies in the 80’s. I passed 3 blocks, and it starts to wobble. It slowly drifted
reaching for the ground.
Preparing to leap
but I landed knee-first on the pavement.
The footsteps grew louder now. I quickly stood, and run. Run passed few items..
A splash of pink..
4, no.. 5 stems of roses tied together with a tiny ribbon.
The bouquet float steadily, above an apartment accross. The view stunned me. First, on the thought of how the roses would work just like the helium balloon, but more steady and high. I would be rescued from the footsteps behind. Second, on the apartment. It’s brick wall is covered with oil paintings. All of them shows a distant image of light, with a figure reaching out to it. But none of the figures did touch it.
Thoughts back to the roses. I galloped. The sky is now filled with helium balloons. The same air-light, strong force pushes me as I leaped from one balloon to another. The ninth balloon reaches me to the top of the apartment. I got down. Then quickly grasping the bouquet of roses.
Our distance got smaller and smaller. They are within my reach now. I stretched my fingers..
The bouquet disappeared into thin air.
I’m on the pavement again.
The footsteps are nowhere to be heard.
Pairs of feet stood in front of me.
I’m in a loop, nowhere to run.
An engineer who attempts to do more writing and art projects. Farah is thrilled to announce her work in a recently published anthology of short fiction, 'Cerita Para Perambah' (Kompas). Say hi to her on Instagram (@shabilafarah) and email (email@example.com)