Paddle Wheel Boats Arizona

Mr. F.

Daniele Alfani - oil on wood - 2008

A Cri and dreams.

was time to decide. After that ugly, ugly day, Mr. F. had no doubt that something had to change, and even at the earliest. He put the jacket into large squares of red and yellow room and sat at his desk in front of the door. It was raining outside and the lights were on Course Hotel on busy road. This time he planned everything. A detailed memorandum would be the place to start. He turned on the computer and began marking to do, a sort of plan to be followed scrupulously. Suddenly he felt a profound sense of wellbeing, as happened every time he fell asleep, she could enter the dreams of others.
That was her secret, her sweet madness that accompanied him for months. No one knew, except her, Viola, but someone had stolen it to him.
all began when he found that place as a servant in the center REM, Clinic Educational Recovery of Memory, his task was to clean the rooms where the patients were those long sleep from which air purifiers did not remember when they woke up more who they were. The new treatment, said the lights to the madness, but for ordinary people were just crazy to prison with no way out. Of course, the legends are fed with a disarming ease, was a place left, a former military barracks in the suburbs, complete with barbed wire with electric shock. The outside walls were crumbling and the large garden that surrounded entirely uncultivated. It was said that the patients slept for days, weeks, sometimes months on end! But there were also people ready to swear that he saw patients wandering in the night, get up to the windows of their homes and observe them, steal the happiness of sleep. For this reason, many people were gone to live in town and no one wanted to work at the clinic. Apart from the doctors that Mr. F had never seen, was the only attendant. Soon he started to go crazy not talking to those patients who were lying in that deep sleep. His friend became the first Viola, a young and delicate, like a doll, talking to her for hours. One night, Mr. F. dreamed of a big green field and many people in line. Among them was Violet, took him by the hand and finally he could feel his soft skin, as a child.
The next day, while cleaning the room, approached her on tiptoe and whispered in her ear-it was nice to see you.
That night he dreamed again the great green field, but Viola was not there. He began to walk toward the thick bushes that extended a few meters ahead and found a path. Without thinking twice he began walking it quickly, he looked back at times suspected of being followed. After a few minutes found himself in front of an old house with a wooden door. Consumed by the time it seemed as if he had fought a long battle, reeking of rotten and was peeling a bit. He entered with the hope of finding Viola. Took him only an empty room. He looked up toward the ceiling and saw the holes. Looked like portholes, as there was water inside, but it was black. Only then did Mr. F. noticed that the floor was a sheet consumed. The gap with care for fear that it will crumble from what seemed fragile.
In small print it said
"Now dreams.
Let yourself go to one of possible worlds above you. "
After a few moments, the black water and wrapped it up and was dragged.
When he finally found himself able to breathe in the great green field, the sky was clear and there was no wind. Everything was quiet, and there was no one thing that frightened him was that he could see the boundaries of this small world, he felt no smell and had no tactile feedback. Mr. F. realized that something had gone wrong. He felt stuck and his heart began to beat wildly. Then he began to hear rumors that Mr. F. had made a mistake, had taken the wrong road and was lost. Panic possession of him. She began to scream and seek a new way out of this world empty.
In the new world of Mr. F. there was no time. With her mind came in a moment to touch the edge of the field and then had to stop, he felt bound, finished.
When he woke up and opened his eyes it was morning, but was not home.
Before him stood a white ceiling, the heart pounding and her mouth was bitter and dry.
panic when he realized he could not move my hands, but found that they were simply tied to a bed. She turned her head to the side and saw her; Viola was smiling at him.
-This is one of the possible worlds or is it a dream? - Said F. that could not even recognize his voice.
-Nobody knows, "said Viola.
In a moment all around the world to Mr. F. became dark before his eyes he saw the door that they were waiting for.
and fell asleep.