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      #94 : Saturday 29 June 2003 : http://addendumtextfiles.org
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	 Sleep:, By Clough
	ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ
The tickling bead of sweat rolling down his forehead was too much to
simply ignore. He just HAD to engage it. Leaving the leather strap of
his fine horse limp, he wiped his forehead, with a very temporary
sense of satisfaction.
Unable to deal with further exhaustion, his wagon came to a rest on
the edge of the winding gravel. His attention came to his flask,
"empty."

Exhaustion brought on laziness, compelling him to forget about
gathering water, and calling it a night. Reaching into his wagon, he
pulled out a finely woven blanket, wrapped himself, closed his eyes,
and began to dream.

He dreamt of his childhood, and then died.
Or did he?? No, it was simply not true.
He had actually become a spoon.
A spoon for the fundamental relationship between King and Queen,
brother and sister, nightfall and dreams...

Solmyr, a product of my imagination, had many dreams.
None that I would like to share with my limited audience, that im sure
are only reading this accidentally. But since you asked nicely, I will
share just one of the many exciting dreams that this simple spur of
the moment product of some uncontrollable active cells in this poor
body of mine, that solmyr, no no, I think fred is a much better name,
and maybe someone reading this might have been named fred at birth,
making this story that little bit easier to relate to, sorry solmyr if
your reading this, but your just too rare.

So anyway, Fred had a dream, much like many people who may be reading
this particular section of text, a dream which was very rudely
interrupted by an alarm clock, before it had even started. But had the
power failed during the night, he may have had that particular dream,
which was ironically all about the adventures of solmyr. But fred,
still to this day, is completely unaware that he might have had this
dream, unless somehow I imagined fred knowing, in which case he would.

Fred went off on his usual daily tasks; Working, shopping, and
socialising.
Sadly, that was all his life consisted of, and further more sadly, its
also what makes up the lives of almost everybody reading, and not
reading for that mater, this dialog.
But the saddest thing of all, was the fact that no matter what he did,
it was all his life would ever consist of, besides ofcourse, sleep.

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  Disclamer -                                                     
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