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Showing posts from August, 2009

Short Fiction: This Way Please

(photo by Zer Cabatuan)



In the dream, the old man tells me, “Come in. Come in boy. The show’s just beginning.”

And I do.

The theatre is filled with people, young and old – one child is holding a cotton candy cone in her hand, laughing, giggling; a thirty-something woman sits near the aisle, sobbing; I see a couple kissing in a corner.

At first I don’t get it. The screen is showing nothing but static. When I return to the man outside, he’s smiling. “Don’t like what’s on?”

I say there’s nothing on, but the smile doesn’t fade, and he nods knowingly.

“Ah,” he says, “So we have a realist, eh?” He seems amused and surprised. “Don’t get much of your kind here. The last one to say she was one ended up staying, after all. I think it was a love story, for her. Figures. So just static for you? Nothing? Not even a shadow or something blurred and jagged in the background?”

“No,” I answer.

“So it’s back to the real world in the morning, yes? Same as always?” Asks the old man, who has, from somewhere, pull…