Helena's Dream
Helena's Dream:
I am looking down from the ceiling of a morgue. My naked body lies on a clean steel table. Seven little men in white labs coats are crowded around my body, and they are crying loudly. There is something familiar about the little men, and as I watch them wail in grief, I realize that they are each a miniature version of Cesar. Their weeping stops only when the sound of a car engine is heard outside the morgue. All seven little men turn as one to look at the large steel double door entrance as it opens with a crash, and in struts an eighth Cesar, full size and wearing a T-shirt with humming birds flying on the front in every color of the rainbow. This Cesar smiles at the others, takes out his knife, and in one flying leap, lands on the steel table and straddles my body. With a swift motion, he strikes with the knife at my chest, but my body is covered by a thick layer of ice and repels the blade. As I watch, the seven little men gasp in surprise, but Cesar only grins as he takes his lighter from his back pocket and touches the flame to his blade. As the watchers hold their breath, Cesar plunges his flaming knife into my body’s chest, and it breaks through the top layer of ice, slicing the skin and flesh beneath. The little men cheer wildly at Cesar’s success, as he carves a deep hole into my chest, reaches in and pulls out my frozen heart. It is not beating. The crowd quiets in anticipation of Cesar’s next move. Holding my heart in his left hand, Cesar reaches with his right hand, not toward my body, but toward his own chest. Shirt fabric, skin, flesh, and bone magically give way under the weight of his fingers as he reaches inside himself and pulls out his own heart. This heart is beating and bursts into flame as I watch, yet the organ does not seem to burn. Cesar then places the flaming heart into my frozen body’s chest cavity, and pushes the frozen heart into his own chest. The little men watch in awe as the frozen heart begins to melt inside Cesar’s chest and starts beating. As for my body, an even stranger thing happens: the flames from Cesar’s heart spread from my chest to my entire body, and melt the thick layer of ice encapsulating me. Then my point of view changes, as if I was sucked back into my dead body, and I open my eyes. Cesar, still straddling me, gives me a gold toothed grin, swings down to the floor in a motion almost too quick for the eye to follow, and offers me his hand. Loud cheers bounce off the walls of the morgue as I take his hand in mine, and the world falls into the darkness just before waking.
I am looking down from the ceiling of a morgue. My naked body lies on a clean steel table. Seven little men in white labs coats are crowded around my body, and they are crying loudly. There is something familiar about the little men, and as I watch them wail in grief, I realize that they are each a miniature version of Cesar. Their weeping stops only when the sound of a car engine is heard outside the morgue. All seven little men turn as one to look at the large steel double door entrance as it opens with a crash, and in struts an eighth Cesar, full size and wearing a T-shirt with humming birds flying on the front in every color of the rainbow. This Cesar smiles at the others, takes out his knife, and in one flying leap, lands on the steel table and straddles my body. With a swift motion, he strikes with the knife at my chest, but my body is covered by a thick layer of ice and repels the blade. As I watch, the seven little men gasp in surprise, but Cesar only grins as he takes his lighter from his back pocket and touches the flame to his blade. As the watchers hold their breath, Cesar plunges his flaming knife into my body’s chest, and it breaks through the top layer of ice, slicing the skin and flesh beneath. The little men cheer wildly at Cesar’s success, as he carves a deep hole into my chest, reaches in and pulls out my frozen heart. It is not beating. The crowd quiets in anticipation of Cesar’s next move. Holding my heart in his left hand, Cesar reaches with his right hand, not toward my body, but toward his own chest. Shirt fabric, skin, flesh, and bone magically give way under the weight of his fingers as he reaches inside himself and pulls out his own heart. This heart is beating and bursts into flame as I watch, yet the organ does not seem to burn. Cesar then places the flaming heart into my frozen body’s chest cavity, and pushes the frozen heart into his own chest. The little men watch in awe as the frozen heart begins to melt inside Cesar’s chest and starts beating. As for my body, an even stranger thing happens: the flames from Cesar’s heart spread from my chest to my entire body, and melt the thick layer of ice encapsulating me. Then my point of view changes, as if I was sucked back into my dead body, and I open my eyes. Cesar, still straddling me, gives me a gold toothed grin, swings down to the floor in a motion almost too quick for the eye to follow, and offers me his hand. Loud cheers bounce off the walls of the morgue as I take his hand in mine, and the world falls into the darkness just before waking.