His Eyes Were Open But The Old Man Looked Dead

Deserted Farmhouse
The Nightmare

I put in a really shitty night. It was hot, and I had nightmares. In
one of the nightmares, I woke up to find a light coming from behind
the door in the other room. On my way to investigate I stumbled over a pile of old newspapers. The door wouldn’t open until I forced it. Upon entering, I found myself standing in an immaculate room. In opposite corners were antique lamps giving off an ultra soft light. The light brought out the redwood floor’s rich tones. A canopy bed stood in the middle of the room. Lying in the bed was an old man who looked to be more than a hundred years old. We remained fixed in each others gaze until I looked away in fear. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. And then came the voice that said, “If you have come for a visit you are welcome. Visitors are rare!” The voice sounded strangely familiar. Was this guy really my old college professor?

His eyes were open, but the old man looked dead; again I heard
the voice, “Well,” he said. I didn’t respond. I just stood there, silently
looking into his eyes, watching his breathing become more labored with each passing moment. Finally, the silence was broken when he again said, “What are you doing here?”

I looked back at him hard. How could this be? My Professor wasn’t that old, but that was certainly his voice. “What are you doing here?” I shot back to him.

“Are you blind, I’m sleeping,” came the response.

“I mean, you’re not supposed to be here,” I said, “you’re supposed to
be back in Michigan teaching classes.”

“Not anymore,” he replied. “That was a long time ago. If you have
come for a visit, that’s okay. I don’t get visitors anymore.”

“Well, not exactly,” I said. “Actually I don’t know why I’m here. I
mean, I don’t know if I’m really here, or why you’re here. I was
hoping you could tell me. It’s all screwed up.”

“Get on with it,” he tersely replied, “You’re either here, or you’re
not, which is it?”

His face began to contort. The last place I wanted to be was in front
of an upset college professor and, as was common in dreams, at that
moment I lost dream consciousness. The next thing I knew, the dream switched to a bar. I was drinking a beer, and into the empty barroom walked Dr. Gill. This time he was his right age—60 something.


About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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5 Responses to His Eyes Were Open But The Old Man Looked Dead

  1. wow–one for dream analysis!

  2. frizztext says:

    I like your story telling…

  3. Your narrative is unlike most other blogs out there. Sometimes it baffles me but I always enjoy it

  4. eof737 says:

    Fascinating dream… 😉

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