Angels In The Orchestra

I begin to feel that I don’t even know myself anymore. I awakened one day, to find it all had changed. The landscape was unfamiliar and my hopes, fears, dreams, desires . . . had all shifted, had been allowed to shift. The dream that took so many years to build can turn to nightmares, and without noticing, return to a dream again. Where there were Bohemians, now there are angels. Angels in the orchestra, angels in the audience, angels staring me in the eyes, unblinking, not speaking, just staring at nothing I can see. I feel surrounded but so terribly alone.

Then a stranger appears. I know him; it seems as though I have been waiting for him, but we are just meeting. He tells me tales of distant days and a place where there is no future, there is hardly even now. It frightens and excites me, and I am drawn in. All too soon he is gone and the nightmare returns. His words appear as warm tears falling from the skies, and I feel uplifted, but unsettled. Then I can’t wait, I have to hear his voice, but all I hear is the stranger telling me that he cannot tell me.

Angels appear on my computer screen. Their message is warm, but their eyes are cold, unblinking, just speaking in silence of things I don't understand. Where am I? Nothing looks familiar. Piece by piece, it disappears until I clutch at anything I can call mine. And the pain grows blinding. I cannot look. I close my eyes.