Life is but a Dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a monologue I did a while ago. My angsty teenage days to be precise. I was obsessed with the idea of reality and what it really is to be sentient. I still love it, and I hope you do too.

Submitted: January 03, 2014

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Submitted: January 03, 2014

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What if life is a dream? What if Row, Row, Row Your Boat was more profound than we thought? I keep having these dreams where I'm being encased in a water encrypted tube straight out of one of the alien movies. Electrodes are strapped to my head, which are transmitteing static snow onto tvs. Only these faceless scientists can interpret it. I am an experiment. However something has gone terribly awry. I keep thinking about the room. I keep thinking about the wires, the water, and the scientists. My eyes start to flutter backwards as if I'm having a heart attack and the snow turns into highly saturated sharp lines. The scientists' faces start to take shape as they rush to my side ripping as many wires off my forehead as possible the second before a massive explosion or catastrophic meltdown occurs. Then I wake up. As I breathe staring at my ceiling I'm left with the notion that they fixed what ever their problem was. Then that question comes back to me. A question that has been plaguing me for far longer than I'd like to think about. What if life really is a dream?


© Copyright 2020 Jack Grayson. All rights reserved.

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