it was up to herpublished: 2011-05-25
The next day she wasn’t so afraid of other people’s dreams anymore. She often had dreams herself. None of them were particularly comforting, but on contemplating this she soon realized dreams never were. Dreams were always unsettling. For example, she had never, ever, dreamed of making daisy-chains and drinking a cocktails on a sailing boat. The fact that she had been laying in the neighbour’s garden without screaming and kicking, and that he could not reach her, said more about him than about her.
He could not reach her. Yet she herself was calm. Did she want him to reach her? Or did she just want to lay there for a while, maybe and think things over? See things from a neighbour’s perspective? She could get up herself, whenever she was ready and wanted to, shake the dirt off her clothes, straighten her back and smile at him.
“Please don’t worry” she could say, “I can do it myself.”
Death is always a symbol of change. So then, she could make her way back home. It was up to her.