posted on Oct, 9 2004 @ 04:34 PM
"Do you have a favorite dream?"
The clammor of the subway filed Miranda's ears, the tracks were never silent here. The sparks lit up the deepest tunnels to reveal emptiness, another
brick wall, absent of graffiti because the vandals didn't walk that far down. The only thing that resided there were those small flashes of light,
the sparks left over from a passing train. The closer you were to those sparks, the closer you were to death. Those who were close enough to the
sparks of a train to touch them never saw light again.
She barely heard her companion's inquiery.
"Well, if living in a ice cream land with the Easter Bunny isn't my favorite dream, I just don't know what is," she replied with a slight air of
sarcasm. The tracks were never silent here, in between the pillars on the cold, tiled ground. Persons passed by without even lookin anymore. Here lies
the innoncence of man, alone and tired, waiting for a train.
"Piss off, why dont you?" Miranda hated stupid questions from stupid people. Mindless dreamers didn't sustain her anymore. Bright eyes were not to
be found, the only light came from the sparks at the bend of the tunnel, and no one goes down there.
She walked away, leaving her companion in the dark. No one looked, no one follwed, they all kept their gaze downward, hoping she had not seen them
The next day, she descended into the darkness again. It was never silent, and never warm. Autumn had set in, and Miranda was forced to stand by
sprightly children in ridicuous costumes. One was a fairy, one was a princess. The end of one month brought the start of another, and the start of one
month meant another 31 days to dread, another year to despise, another lifetime that would not be remembered.
Her companion brushed a finger through Miranda's thick black hair, tucking it behind her ear. It exposed Miranda's golden skin, weathered and torn
by years of empty values but still glowing wih a scrape of iridescence.
"You are beautiful, you should have a favorite dream."
"I told you to piss off, now get the f--- off of me before I shove you onto the tracks!"
Her companion, dressed always in white, simply smiled, her rosy cheeks and berry lips shining with hope. Her companion did not belong here, her
companion did not belong in the world underneath our own.
The children ran away.
That night, Miranda did dream. She dreamed of light, flickering, sparking, shining. When her eyelids parted and the her vision cleared, she saw
nothing but darkness. She saw everything but light.
"You should have a favorite dream."
Miranda screamed at these words, her companion lay in front of her on the stone ground. Her body was no longer bright, but pale. She was dressed in
white, but one would never know, for it was covered in an endless stream of blood. The blush of her cheeks had turned to bruise.
"You should have a favorite dream, it's all we're left with now."
"What the f--- are you talking about?! What are you doing here?"
It is never silent here, but it was for that moment. Because all Miranda saw was a spark, gliding right across her brow. Close enough to touch.
No one ever comes down this far into the tunnels anymore.