Their walkway was made up of stars that stretched on far beyond the horizon. Stars that were not just twinkling like diamonds in the sky but at intervals flared golden. Yet they dimmed comparatively to the ones that shined in his wife’s eyes and the ones that exploded in his mind when he kissed her.

As they walked, anytime he deemed fit, he stretched forth his hand and buildings emerged, skyscrapers made of glass and steel that shattered reflections of the sun into shattered ribbons of lights and colours. Industries that served nations, met needs and added value materialized. Floating harps made music that even the constellations danced to.
Beneath them, fountains spurted onto lawns that made green as we know it seem like rust. The whole sight was shimmering and splendid!

Visualizing the extraordinary beautiful scene, smiles creased his face as he slept. Then a window in the room opened and a dark cloud floated in silently, congealing into a shadowy form that was fully clothed in black latex and a black mask. As quiet as a jungle cat, the form acrobatically jumped onto the headboard of the bed and from a bag he withdrew instruments, the kind not known on the shores of humanity. Using them, he burrowed into the vaults of the mind of the sleeping man and made away with a lacquered wooden box but not before sowing a devious device in replacement. Yet the tired man slept on!

His dreams turned to nightmares. Dragons belching flames and smoke came out of nowhere incinerating everything in their paths. Where grasses flourished and birds sang, serpents slithered in rapturous frenzy. Stars plummeted and lost their fire like drenched embers. Everything crumbled into dust, went up in smoke and ashes. What was left was a black, ruined world.

Worst of all was when one of the dragons knocked her off the starry runway. He managed to hold on to her left hand but her weight got too much and she plunged down where snakes welcomed her with sibilant music that chilled the soul. Her scream made his blood curdle…..

He woke with tears running down his eyes. The nightmare became his reality! A life without dreams was one of a stolen future, a life of drudgery and slavery. He became a hamster on life’s wheel, carving out a humdrum existence. All was bleak and monotonous. He was incarcerated in a prison of subsistence living. The dreary and colourless existence made him begin to desperately seek the surcease that could only be found in a tight noose as it squeezed him into oblivion. The end crept closer……

Jubilant, the cat burglar in a burst of illumination landed gracefully on the Forever Bridge with acrobatic panache. Holding the box he ran, more swiftly than winds towards the other side where time was a frozen ocean. Another soul had bitten the dust and with each dream stolen, The Ancient One’s dream got shattered while his got stronger. Racing, he laughed maniacally, that was until he ran into a wall. He tumbled, rose to his feet in a smooth roll and was amazed to see that the wall was constituted of mist. Mist should not be that hard.

Then out of the boiling, swirling mist, bronzed feet shod in sandals of gold appeared. When the figure totally emerged, the thief saw that it was The Teacher and he was filled with rage! He thought he had buried the man at their last encounter and here he was again walking towards him with majestic insouciance. A beatific halo surrounded the man as he made towards the burgler of dreams.

The Teacher had cost him so much in the past and this time he was going to stay buried for good, mused the thief.

Stretching out his hand, he said, “Give it to me!”

“Not on your life,” replied the wily one.

“We will see about that, “said The Teacher with unimaginable calmness.

As if orchestrated, both of them stretched out their hands and swords crystallized into them from thin air.

As the thief charged, another came out of the mist and grabbed the sword from the Teacher.

It was a messenger. Heaven forbid it that he would stand idle and watch the Teacher stoop so low to engage the low-life in a duel.

Malevolence mixed with fury surged through the heart of the pilferer as he saw it was a messenger. He took umbrage at the insult and went for a death stroke which was parried by his foe. Clashing steels rang out, ripping the cloak of a silent night to shreds. A rhythmic dance of death unfurled, poetic incursions were made into each other’s circles as they thrust, hacked, sliced and parried. Aside from their swords they unleashed rabid hatred at each other. No quarter was asked or given in this primal fight between good and evil that existed from the beginning when time was still measured by shadows. It was choreography of ferocity, a pirouette of savagery that senses can never follow. They fought until night birthed day and day melted back into night. They went at each other until their swords glowed red and chips of metal scattered into disorganized bits.

Then a deceptive feint and an evasive dance deceived the sly fox and that split second caused him to be split. He was gutted like a fish and as his eyes fluttered in death, the box fell from his hand. Before, it fell to the ground; the Teacher caught it, holding it gingerly, tenderly.

The man was again sleeping when the replacement was done. The dreams came back more alive, more colourful than ever. New dreams that had never existed before were birthed and he could think bigger than ever.

Now, the stars formed radiant flowers and as ideas formed in his mind, they crystallized into structures that made the initial ones seem like hovels. Castles bloomed where bits of moonlight in glass lanterns hooked to trees provided illumination. Nightingales formed avian coalitions with thrushes belting out songs in synchronized symphony with floating harps accompanied by violins. Sunshine rained golden coins; emeralds popped out of leaves, flowers intermittently changed colours. Ships carrying treasures floated on clouds. They were being transported in a golden carriage by winged horses. It was much more than the mind could take in. His wife looked more radiant than ever as she carried the future in form of twins. Planets collided and burst into showering confetti, stars winked mischievously, roses blushed and the moon shyly slid behind a cloudy curtain as he bent and feasted on the pomegranates that was her lips and got inebriated from the winery that was her mouth….

I am sure you can guess what happened when he woke the next morning.




10 thoughts on “THE THIEF

  1. The description and imagery your word evoked was…a rapturous mix of fantasy, mystery, beauty and a sprinkle of eerieness. Lesson learned as always.👍


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s