They haunt me. I don’t understand why or where they come from but they keep coming and everyday there is more. I am talking about stories, ideas that seem to spring to life everytime I start to daydream or stop thinking. And if that is not enough they come to me in my dreams.
If I try to ignore them, they twist themselves around and snake their way into my thoughts. For example, yesterday I have found myself thinking about living in the southwest part of America. Now as soon as I thought that thought, the walls faded, the scenery changed and I see myself as someone else walking in the desert. A lizard peeks its head out from under a rock and a bird lands on top of a cactus. There is a car driving towards me from afar. I know this because I see the dust trail marking its movement. It is someone I know or at least someone I am expecting, a woman whom I’m happy to see.
As she gets out of her car, I see doubt on her face. Before she even speaks I know what she will say, something about why I am here. She means well and cares about me but I know in my heart this is where I am supposed to be. This woman is well dressed and elegant, a long and slender woman with just the right amount of makeup. She could be a TV newswoman or an actress on one of those high fashion shows. I stare into her eyes for a quick quiet moment and her facade fades. She starts beating her fists upon my chest in frustration and I grab her shoulders and pull her into my embrace. She begins to sob uncontrollably, melting into my arms.
The whole scene is surreal to me - I am there and yet I am not there. I feel what this man feels and sees and yet I hear nothing. No words are spoken. And as suddenly as it come to me, this scene fades and I am back in the real world, my wife is asking me something and for a brief moment I am confused and then I know, she is asking if I am ready yet ? I answer yes, a bit on the unsure side about what I am supposed to be ready for and that comes to me - to go to the store - but I am still in shock simply because I retain the memory of being in the desert and I am wondering what to do with it.
“So that’s the why I am here, doc. What can you do for me ?”