The Writing Machine

Stories by Christian Cloud Abraham

The Officer

A DREAM

An officer of the law stands before me with legs apart and arms crossed. Every part of his uniform is black—-head-to-toe leather, boots, gloves, sunglass, riot helmet with the visor lifted—-all black. Only his face is white. He stands in the middle of a city street with tall, dilapidated apartments dwellings rising up on each side of the street just off the sidewalk. I am walking down the yellow line in the middle of the asphalt, but when I try to walk around him, he steps over and stops me with a menacing glare.

“What is it you want?” he asks sneering down into my face.

I am taken back. I think hard and with intense seriousness before I answer him.

“Freedom,” I say.

The officer becomes confused and so I step around him and continue on my way.

END
© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on February 8, 2006 in
Emotion: Anger, Type: Dream