Mar 3, 2026 THE POETRY, the surreal and the unreal
A Vision
© January 7th, 2020
By Vijaya Sundaram
The Dreamer stirred-
And everything slipped side-wise,
Then straightened up, while
People and animals walked up walls,
And birds wheeled perpendicularly.
The Dreamer stared-
And everything grew eyes
That stared back,
And followed her
As she backed slowly down
Sloping, forgotten streets,
Stumbling upon gifts and blessings
Left behind by bewildered Magi.
The Dreamer bent low,
Doubled over, and rolled down
A hill which grew where she stood.
A pail of water rolled down alongside,
But not a drop spilled.
Another rolled alongside her,
Overtaking her,
And cracked his skull.
The Dreamer sat up, and sang-
And everything became silent,
Listening loudly, while planets
Swung heavily in their orbits,
Humming in frequencies
Only she could hear.
She sang- and the world straightened its shoulders,
Aligned its axes,
Unrolled its streets,
Disciplined its sudden hills,
Shut all the opened eyes, sending them
Back into the place whence they’d emerged.
And she whispered to the bewildered Magi,
“Look! That star has burned out.
Find another on your way home.
Nothing here awaits a birth.
All is burned, utterly gone.
Find a new star, or join the Dream-Time.”
As she spoke, the Dreamer felt a river
Coursing down her cheek,
Even as her toes burned,
And she curled up, bit by bit
Into a long column of smoke.
And as she went elsewhere,
Leaving ash-heaps of Dream
Smoking in the forlorn dawn,
Salt rivers traced their Sister-Routes
To dead Oceans,
And no creature stirred.
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Sep 11, 2014 Awake in Dream Time - Journal Entries about the almost real, Original Short Stories, the surreal and the unreal
Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
You Won’t See Me*
©September 11th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
I lived alone in the world behind the mirror. Those whom I saw, looked back at me, but didn’t see me – just themselves, endlessly repeated. They didn’t look, you see.
They didn’t see me, mouth open, beseeching… See me! Free me!
No, they smiled or pirouetted, smiled, frowned at fat, examined bruises, glared, and spoke to unseen enemies, stroked their hair, but missed me entirely.
Then, a child saw me, reaching out her hand. I stepped through.
Everyone vanished behind my mirror. I couldn’t see them, just a lonely, lace-curtained window reflected in the mirror.
And I didn’t see me.
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Thanks, as always, to our Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for hosting, and to Janet Webb for the lovely photo-prompt!
*With a nod to The Beatles for the title!
Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story by Vijaya Sundaram, 100-word short story based on photo prompt, Flash Fiction