Caged Orange

Last night I had strange dreams.

About an orange that was trapped in a box.

About my friend growing old. Walking into a room and seeing my friend as he might be in twenty years time.

And about driving down the road in the dark, wind howling, a storm raging; turning a corner to find the road full of leaves to the height of the car windows. Before I have time to react and decide what to do, how to not lose control, I'm knocked unconscious by a falling branch. Coming back to barely conscious, I know my young passenger is helpless, is trying to call for help on a phone that won't work. Dry brown leaves blowing all around in the dark, visible in the headlights of the stalled car. My head hurts and I wonder that I'm still alive.

Meanwhile, somewhere, there's an orange trapped in a cage as the years go on and my friends grow old.

Comments

  1. I was about to compose an up-beat and optimistic comment using all kinds of dynamic metaphors about oranges in fruit bowls, and then I reflected...its actually ok to see our fears. The world can be a dark and scary place and old age seems a real cruel deal doesn't it?

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  2. Even so, you are brilliant Krysia, like an orange

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  3. The world can indeed be a dark and scary place. And thanks!

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  4. The world can indeed be a dark and scary place. And thanks!

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