Total desperation seized him squeezing inert muscles. There was no response. It formed words on lips that couldn’t be uttered. He, “the great adventurer” was trapped, encased in a shell that wouldn’t respond, eyes that couldn’t focus on white coated doctors and their clip boards.
Panic finally receded leaving in its place a desolation of spirit so overwhelming he was drowning in it…
A fresh faced young doctor entered the room. He smiled, strangely making eye contact. In his hand he held a hypodermic needle.
“I’m just going to give you a little shot Alex, something to help,” the smile turned to a grin.
A deep wave of darkness swept over engulfing him in slumber…
He “awoke” alone on a mountain side. In awe he realized… He was standing! He raised his hand. It moved. A dream he reasoned…
He gazed astonished as colossal flocks of birds arose, curved and soared in the sky above. Like a rush of soft sound and colour they wheeled to and fro interweaving their songs. The sky, a brilliantly soft shade of deep blue faded into purple at the horizon as the flocks wove in and out in giant loops of song.
A finch stopped to perch on his hand, fearless as Alex’ finger stroked the resplendent, downy chest, so soft and fragile, but the heart seemed to burst forth from within in song. It was all so sublimely beautiful he could only stand and watch.
The young doctor appeared beside him.
“What is this?” Alex asked.
“The birds fly forth to celebrate the coming of peace. They soar across the skies lending their joy to the creation bursting forth below, new buds, new beginnings.”
Alex became aware of other watchers coming forth from the small village below, children yelling, jumping up and down, mothers, dish cloths in hand, all with eyes bent skywards taking in the sight.
“Most don’t know what it means” the doctor explained. “They know only it is the celebration of a new beginning. This evening and tomorrow morning will be the first day of peace.”
Light faded as the sun descended behind the hills. Alex’ eyelids grew unbearably heavy as the blanket of night swept over him. His hand no longer obeyed him.
He woke once more to the blank white walls of his prison…A dream, a drug induced dream… He wondered if it was part of their health care plan, he doubted it… perhaps the young doctor had acted in compassion? Whatever it was he desperately wanted more, addiction couldn’t be worse than this hell he was living in, nothing could, not even death!