Last night I was in an unvisited room – white brick walls, very open, but warm with verdant carpets covering a cold floor. A blond dude stood on a small stage, with a guitar and microphone. He was releasing his only album. I had no idea who he was. An invitation came in the mail. I responded with a presence.
The music was soothing and mellow, reminding me of a golden California sunrise – yellow with so much hope and promise in the skies. I felt the sunrise in the words as they flowed through me like warm bath bubbles. Every song was great. Folded cardboard sheets were passed around. I saw them on a golf course. A sign-off was mandatory. Beside every track was an approval box. I put a check mark beside every song. But not all the songs were present. I heard more than I saw. I had to tell the producer. We need the warmth. Panic. Action.
I got on my bike and headed down a street lined with dirty grey buildings and greasy round porthole windows, so thick light couldn’t escape. The air was cold as I glided down the unknown pavement. I passed a relic with a dome shaped roof covered in green metal. So many poor people along the route – leaning, squatting, and laying down on the cracked sidewalk The citizens starving with their skin peeling and falling off the bone. Eyes so dark and sunken like buried seeds in winter. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t stop. The producer calls.
I got to a shopping centre with a tall glass office tower. The windows were shiny and mirrored. In the reflection were the starving people on the sidewalk, behind me. I turned right, but as I did a large dump truck pulled out in front of me. I was struck. I fell down and couldn’t move. More panic. The music must get out. The road was blocked. I thought about the sidewalk, but it was covered in people. I sat on my bike, wondering what I should do. I shook. Rivers ran down my face.
A bearded man rose from the sidewalk and walked towards me. He held out his hand. I reached into my bag – slung over my shoulder and hanging on my right side – and took out a bundle of scorecards. I gave it to the man. He took it and smiled. He went back to the sidewalk and raised the scorecards with a holler. People rose, gained weight, and were covered in the most glorious gold clothing. They danced and sang the warm songs.
I turned my bike around and headed back down the street. The street people were gone. The green roof was now bronze and shining in the morning sun. The buildings were clean and new. A warm gust flew up the alleys and the streets. Lights glowed in windows and people moved inside, busy. The smell of rich and savoury food filled the street. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I sang.