He lay back.
Leather enveloped him, at once calming but also focussing.
 
He’d been here before,
once?
Or many times?
 
He knew, but if asked he’d be unable to say for certain.
That bugged him, as he felt the dragon-like sensation of where he was.
Both soft and hard, a supple fist which flowed around,
yet didn’t break upon.
 
Placid walls of gentle colour, interrupted only by staid pictures.
Generic images of working men,
fishing ships,
awnings supporting a livelihood long gone into history
with the onslaught of modern water-borne craft which render what was obsolete.
 
Or he thought.
 
Ah yes,
thought.
 
Solace from the reality of life,
a not so hidden palace.
Fortified, yet beautiful.
 
Wondrous, yet built only for one purpose.
To protect,
defensible.
Constructed of solid materials,
designed to offer resistance where other edifices succumbed.
 
And so it stood,
as his head rested on brown, studded and deep leather.
 
The disembodied voice asked its’ first question…….
Just one of many, experienced over time.
 
"good afternoon Steven, what shall we discuss today?"
 
"your soul is in pain, I can see it from here, why is it you rebel against my wisdom?"
 
He couldn’t answer, knowing he was trapped.
If he gave a reason, he’d be exposing himself to cross referenced
debated responses.
Words that were written on a notepad, long forgotten
said in the heat of the moment.
 
Spoken from a place the ramparts were supposed to protect.
 
A Holy place?
 
 
But now revealed.
Trodden under heavy boots.
Weapons in hand, to bring about a conclusion.
Force an opinion,
push the challenge into despair.
 
He closed his eyes, and listened.
Wanting to just pass on his thoughts,
his dreams,
his fantasies.
 
But he couldn’t, we can’t, no one can.
Words written, or spoken wouldn’t convey.
Might elicit a brief glimpse,
a widening of the mind.
And a smile, a recognition.
 
Then two smiles.
 
Then the time was up.
 
Like life itself, fleeting and ambiguous.
Drawn from the experiences of a life lived in torment.
From moments of happiness…..
Which contorts,
as they won’t be experienced again.
 
Good, because life likes to torment.
Bad, because we learn from mistakes.
 
Ups, because we all feel the Sun through a crack in the clouds.
Downs, because existence is unpredictable.
 
He stood up,
 
tried to peer over the top of the notepad.
But it was quickly angled away.
A slyly raised corner of the mouth letting him know he’d been rumbled.
 
The door to reality was a few steps away,
so he stopped.
Thought about the hour of release and its’ worth.
Then laughed,
walking into the Sunshine he raised his Dragon fist to the world and was both soft and hard.
 
Breathing in a heady mix of truth and marketed medium,
lies intertwined with that line seperating what could be proven and what could not,
 
 
He reintegrated seamlessly.
waiting for a month to pass.
The time gone unnoticed,
bringing nothing new,
but something, simply something
else,
the next time he lay back, and closed his eyes on the brown leather.
 
Steve B 06/09
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