Redux

 

I dreamt I was a lost ancient warrior, garbed in bronze helmet and leather body armor. I saw myself seated on a boulder, shaking off dusts and dirt beside a stranger’s flower bed. For a while, I thought the carnation and roses gave me the scent of peace. As I gazed at the green pasture from afar, I saw the dancing shadows of clay pot-makers along the sandy riverbank. Then everything went dark and silent. I heard a short bip, then a blip. I saw afterward glitters of freed bubbles as more bips dragged on. A metal chinked. Then I woke up—still in yesterday’s work clothes. Drowsy, I hastily dragged my feet and lowered the window blinds. Outside, I only saw congested concretes and sparkling metals whizzing past.  Beyond my windowsill, the world was running wild. Just as some beasts of steel slithered through a neighbor’s garden, I rolled back to bed, defiant against the sun that rose proud. I knew the clock turned 10 AM as my phone rang. But the warrior is long gone.

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