Past Echoes, Present Whispers

   

    I find myself back at Liberty Christian High, the halls echoing with ghostly remnants of adolescent chatter. I venture into the basement, bracing myself for the expected damp darkness, but it surprises me. It's not the musty cavern I'd imagined. A group of people even huddle at the far end of a corridor.

    Still, an unsettling shiver runs down my spine. The school has shifted its skin since my time. It's familiar, yet foreign - a puzzling paradox. "They've spruced the place up," I tell a friend, my voice bubbling with a tinge of nostalgia and admiration.

    My words tumble out, cloaking my deeper feelings - a mix of appreciation for the new and longing for the old, for times that will never come back, and for changes that came too fast, like a ride on a rickety rollercoaster. A bizarre blend of homecoming and alienation weaves through me. This place is both my past and an uncertain present, standing as a symbol of inevitable progress and relentless time.

I wake up

A Place In Time

Dream 2-5-14

I'm wandering through an old house. I don't recognize where I am. A truck pulls into the driveway. From what I can see, there are two men in the vehicle. One of them gets out. The man is my father. The other man in the truck is my uncle Terri. They both look young, as if today were thirty years ago. Have I traveled through time? 

My dad comes into the house. I hide behind a chair. I watch him as he walks through the home. He's singing a christian song. If this is the same past that I know of, my uncle just recently led my dad to Jesus. As my dad sings his song, he begins to listen to a sermon. On tape, I think. My uncle never gets out of the truck. My dad eventually finishes up and walks out the door. He climbs back into the truck where he and my uncle drive away. Dream ends.

I wake up.