The Roof

I remember the tree most vividly. It was half-illuminated, by some kind of spotlight, and from below. Tall, lean, old--a perfect ornament on the concertbowl horizon.

All I felt was burden.

The sun set beautifully, invisible to the eye that would have been burned by its penetrating rays, had it been above the hill--thus making the soft, fade-to-black sapphire cyclorama...well, beautiful.

The music was peaceful, folky with a hint of rock. Passionate.

I had it all planned out. I couldn't smile.

The crowd sat in awe, arranged like markers in one of those shelves with holes in them, like you see in stationery stores, all in rainbow order.

Cerulean. Pistachio green. Mocha. Tangerine.

A couple danced on the upper ring of the seating area, right near that tree.

Their motions were as rehearsed and graceful as those little electric dioramas--the ones you see at Christmastime, with the plastic ice rinks and miniature buildings. My grandma always had that type of thing.

My mind drifted. Though pleasant and surreal, the whole scene depressed me, really. Perfection always depresses me.

I stood up and slipped out of the row, budging past people's blanket-covered knees. They smiled graciously as I apologized. "Sorry...oops...sorry...'scuse me."

They didn't know.

I walked up the short, paved hill, my hands in my jacket pockets. Adrenaline trickled through my veins, one of my many inspirations.

I smiled back at the ushers, or at least tried to.

I felt a hurricane churning inside me. Picking up the dust under my feet, sweeping up any speck of reality in my way.

Clouds gathered in my head.

I neared a spot of the main building where the edge of the roof came within a few feet of the vine-covered earth, and I sprung up on it, clambering to find my balance.

I could bear no more.

I ran along the peak of the roof, where two man-made slabs rested against each other, some kind of architectural embrace.

I stumbled but got back up, desperate, and continued to run.

Here it was, the final stretch.

The moon watched me. Judged me even. Gave me a shadow.

I couldn't help it.

Stomp, stomp, stomp. Picking up pace. Scattered.

Finally, gravity takes the lead. Looks like it won the race.

When it all when black, I realized that it wasn't one of those nightmares where you can't scream or run, and where falling just feels like the downward zoom of a rollercoaster.

No, I never jolted myself awake in bed. I never even felt the concrete.

But I had reached my dream.