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DESERT DREAMS

"Cabbages! Cabbages! Sir, would you like to buy a

cabbage?"
"No," I replied. "I find lettuce much more interesting."
So I picked up a head of lettuce and shrank it by a few

leaves-only to be holding a smaller head of lettuce.
There was a mystery here; one unsatisfied by further shedding

of the leaves.
There must be more than just smaller heads of lettuce

concealed within this head of lettuce, I reasoned. I tore
at the leaves quickly, then in a frenzy as each leaf revealed
yet another leaf. "More, more!" I cried as I unwrapped the

very core of it and

A wind was screaming somewhere, then I realized it was
searing my face. Its pitch rose higher and louder and higher
and I quivered in paiN UNTIL ICOULDNTST AN DAN Y M 0

silence

I was standing in an empty marketplace. Soundless, cold.
I looked around at the untenanted goat stalls, missing piles
of fruit, and limp lettuce leaves scattered around my feet.
My hand was tightly clenched. I released it and noticed
something fall out. I bent down to find what had fallen.

Unseen scissors were working away at the ground in front
of my feet. I saw them make the first jab through, then cut
out a small hole. The hole was white and didn't seem to be
anywhere. The ground just wasn't there anymore.

More scissors were working, and were cutting several
lines at once. I watched with interest as they slowly eroded
the ground under my feet. I stepped back in sudden fear, but
the whiteness moved along with me. I supported me as well

as the earth had.
The scissors quickened and multiplied, until I couldn't

identify individual cuts anymore. They were working on the
horizon clouds, then on the sun, and finally they closed

together above me.
I ran as fear seized me, looking for anything. I flailed

at the ground-only to find that it wasn't there. I was
floating in soundless, featureless white, screaming to make

some space somewhere ...

" ... quiet, sir, you are disturbing ... "
I clutched at a man in an orderly's uniform for a few
good seconds of whimpering while I got the rhythmic WHUMP-WHUMP

of a train on a poorly kept bed.
"the desert often gives people bad dreams," he said and

left as I stared out at the vista of sand and burnt sky

infinity.
At least my eyes pointed that way, but shutters were

closing in my mind on the horizonful of smooth sky and
cloudless sand. My horizon moved, a conveyance upon

it, an origin, a destination, and a horizon at the edge of

the ties. Dave Cleveland

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