Dreams and Reality at a Tug of War

I woke to the sound of rain thudding on the roof. The coffee  freshly brewed and morning rituals completed I set out to the porch that overlooked the junction. I set the coffee on a bench and sat on the swing ready to be amused by the world in general. The sky retained the color of dreary gray shattering the hope of sunlit morning. Men in rain coats and women in umbrellas hopped on the road to save themselves from the puddles formed on the path due to the unabated rain. A man in a black suit muttered curses as the car splashed dirt. The trio of girls waiting in the bus stop a little further from the intersection giggled when a charming young man in a red t-shirt smiled at them. Even as I smiled at the boon of adolescence my memories drifted to a place far away.

Midst the forest of purple flowers and trees with blue leaves, situated was a fortress built of black stones. The black castle gleamed in the morning sun. The tower was so high that it skimmed the clouds, reminding me the locked towers and magic. I was trapped in the charm of the land oblivious to the rider in a black cloak on the back of a white horse. The air grew heavy resonating with the each step the man took. I turned. I looked. His face was sculpted to fault. The eyes were the color the castle. His hair was a black waterfall that glided on his sun kissed shoulders. The lush cave of his mouth above the narrow nose curved into a smile at my utter infancy. My pulses hummed as he neared me, his black cape trailing behind.

Somewhere distantly I heard someone call my name. I felt the push from behind. I got up with a quick jolt just to see my father frowning at my drooling mouth. When the battle between dream and reality continued I yearned for the will to remain in the realm of purple flowers and trees with blue leaves looking at the man donning a black cloak.            

Oh how I wish!