Dreams from a Pipe


In those Victorian places I sometimes come upon Sherlock Holmes as another quiet and discreet user of opium. Everything is possible. I can even fly like a bird. Nobody has ever had an experience of actually flying in the air and that, as we know, is impossible. Will we ever know if angels sit on the corners of clouds? I can tell you, but I doubt if you would believe me. I have been above the clouds and flown amongst the stars. Heaven and Hell are two places that I have experienced. It is quite common to pass a flying Devil near a star. They hide behind the bright place and try to startle you as you go by. It never works, but I don't like it anyhow. They are nasty looking creatures with talons, tails and flapping wings that threaten to knock you off your ride.

What I don't understand though is why possible things sometimes seem impossible. Simple things like walking. I do not seem to be able to stand, even though I can fly. Perhaps it is because you can't fly standing up? It's very odd and just a little bit disturbing. I don't like things that I cannot understand. Other times I wonder about things that I do not really want, but of which I have plenty. I am fascinated by poverty and how some people manage to live like Kings and enjoy that. How can someone enjoy having everything when they could live with virtually nothing? Strange.

My travelling usually takes a similar course. Every time. I leave Hell and enter into Heaven where the Devils live. When my journey is over I return to Hell to live out my existence until the next time. I hope it is tomorrow. Heaven is a nice place even though the Devils live there.

© Louis Brothnias (2005)

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