I, Dream

By Matt Mordecai

I am lucid. This spiral staircase that soars into the clear azure sky? Real enough.

Mine will be the most rapid ascent! The most glorious!

My pride betrays me. A storm expands from nowhere, gyrates and swoops to envelop me. Winds lash out.

Below, the stairs vanish into Stygian chaos, and the land once dreamed evaporates from my memory. Now I am awake.

Hunched over, soaked, grimacing, with frozen fingers I cling to the iron railing, feet sliding toward the edge.

I can no longer see the sky, my destination, my prize.

But the journey is how we get there.

“When I write, I feel complete.” – the writer

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