|
Dec. 8, 2008 Sebastian was tired of the dull gray downtown tenement where he lived. There were always sirens, the clouds, pollution, or polluted clouds (he could never figure out which) that blocked out the sun by day and the stars by night. The elevator always seemed to be broken, and the stairs were unglamorous to say the least. How Seb longed for a good wife and a house in the suburbs. But it wasn’t to be. His job as a publishing house apprentice for a small press would not allow his dreams of a four-bedroom house with a manicured lawn to come true. He would have to wait years and years. Then it might become possible. His other dream, the one where he would become a world famous crime novelist, was surely not panning out. His crime novel was thirteen years in the making, weighed in at two thousand pages, and he’d need a veritable team of editors to help him sort it out. He briefly considered playing the lottery. Then he remembered that he almost always either lost or forgot to check his tickets, coming upon them years afterwards. One night, after a week of exhaustive work, he felt particularly upset. It had been raining for the entire day, and everything was overly mundane. That is when it happened. His thoughts would somehow magically transform into reality, like a dimensional shift had occurred, or the entrance to a parallel reality had opened. He fell asleep on the couch wishing for a beautiful blonde wife and a large home in the suburbs. He wished that he were a world famous crime novelist, traveling around in jets, meeting famous and interesting people of all sorts. At home, he checked in only periodically to the large publishing house of which he was the sole owner.
When he woke up, he was wearing cotton pajamas and could smell fresh coffee and pancakes coming from the main floor. He got up, scratched his head, and walked through a set of glorious French doors and headed downstairs. His dream had become a reality. The cook downstairs said that his wife had already left for the day. That was all right. He would meet her later. He would meet much of his new life in fact, in the coming hours.
|
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|