Dream traders
Nov 17, 2021
The trader of dreams
A story — written promptly for the daily prompt
I slipped into the car, and threw my laptop bag on the passenger’s seat, where I usually did, as usual, I wasn’t expecting to have anyone sit there, at least not tonight. I had left my wings in the car boot this morning, or was that last night! I smiled. Under a white sheet, soft feathers, with crisp white ribbons, my hands were itching to grab them, now. But no, I knew the routine. I started the car, and it drove as smoothly as a feather, I was proud of my car, still!
A few weeks ago, it is hard to believe now, I had been driving home, feeling depressed, lonely, and empty. The bank job, that I had was demanding, but it didn’t fill me, something was missing. I had wanted that job, always, it was something for which all of us had slogged. She had given up on me by the time we were in the final year. Out of our group, only two of us had been successful in getting the cadetship. She had declined and gone back to the village, she had said that she didn’t want to trade her dreams for something she didn’t believe in, she didn’t trust the devil. But I had. I had accepted. Made the deal. And from there, I had moved on very quickly, from the company to this bank, where again, working hard, playing the game according to their rules, I had got the promotion that I had wanted. It all went so smoothly, a bit too smoothly, the Faustian smooth, she would have said!
Moving into the new flat that I had bought, however, took me away from the ground on which I used to feel comfortable, it didn’t give me what I had thought it would, it didn’t make me happy, I hadn’t known how lonely it was at the top.
Instead of going home, I had driven to the beach, for no reason, just thinking of maybe going for a walk, sitting on the sand, and grabbing a fish and chips, and sitting there, munching on my fish, and feeding the birds, something, I was not supposed to. I was not looking forward to it, but somehow, the sound of the ocean, the colours of the sky in the late evening, and people running around, doing their own things, not interacting with me, in the background, but yes, real people, not on a TV screen, made me happy.
I thought wouldn’t it be great to have a hobby or a part-time job which kept my evenings busy, doing something, not for money, but to have some fun, and to make some other people happy. I liked clowns, but no, that’s not what I could do.
And then, I had seen him. Standing on a bench, just a silhouette of a man against the drop of a darkening blood orange sky, his arms flapping like wings, he was it seemed, mimicking birds, someone crazy, I thought. I had kept going, and finding a spot to sit and enjoy my fish and chips, had settled down. The fish as usual was quite oily and fishy, but the chips were nice and crisp, and the ketchup was fresh. I was surprised that the birds didn’t come to ask for my chips. Actually, I couldn’t see any birds around. I was a bit uneasy, as I remembered that if there is a storm coming, the birds know, maybe they flew away because of an anticipated tsunami.
I stood up to look better at the sea waves when I saw the birds. They were all hurdling around the bench where the ‘crazy’ man was. Curious, what he was feeding them, I decided to go past the bench and on my way, threw away the leftover chips and bits of fish in the bin, as I was supposed to.
The birds were by then ready to disperse and were flying away, the man had come down from the bench and was bending down on the ground, and I saw, he was picking the feathers which were all around the bench. I was quite fascinated by the man by then. He didn’t seem to be crazy or anything. His clothes were normal, he wasn’t in rags, and then I saw, he had wings. Yes, wings, jutting out of his shoulders, tapered around his back, they looked quite normal on him, as a part of his attire.
I suddenly yearned to have wings, yes, and thought, wouldn’t it be great to have the freedom to take flight to wherever, your soul untethered,
The man was picking up the feathers and putting them in a bag, that was next to him on the ground. I didn’t want to pry on him, so I kept walking when he called me. “Give me a hand, if you want wings as well”!
I was dumb-struck! How did he know?
“Weren’t you thinking of being a dream trader too?” He asked.
And I nodded, and bent down to pick up the feathers, thinking of doing something that I had always wanted to do.
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