How to Become a Dream Partner
Not tall, nor fat, not ugly, nor rich, with no enemies, nor
any friends, our man Jack was average. At the start of this story we find him sitting
on the roof of his house somewhere in the middle of an old oak tree. That’s
right; his house was in a tree. He sat on the roof, staring at the moon,
pondering. This had become a regular occurrence for Jack after his forty-fifth
birthday; staring and pondering.
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It was a matter of height, Jack told the Butcher, the Baker
and old Mrs. Smith. He explained that he was twice denied because of a lack of
height. Jack told the three that Hope needs to reach into the sky like a lighthouse
and a marker to dreams so they know where to go. Twice denied, he said again.
First, his hopes didn’t reach to a height enough to be a signal. Second; dreams
passed him by, way too high to touch.
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It was on the morning after his birthday that Jack decided
to build a house in a tree. From this vantage point, his heavy hopes could be
of use. Living in a tree Jack would be closer to what he wanted most; a dream
for his life. It was two weeks after Jack had moved into the tree house that he
climbed onto the roof. It seemed more height was needed than just living in a
tree.
Sitting on the roof
of his house up in the old oak tree, Jack watched the moon and pondered how he
could get a dream. When it was quiet and all were asleep, Jack would often see
a dream drift by. Several times Jack saw how a dream stopped over someone’s
house, and slowly lost height until it slipped through the roof and out of his
sight. In the morning the person living in that house would walk out, stretch,
smile and say: Oh what a beautiful dream, oh what a beautiful day.
Jack wanted a dream of his own. Gazing at the moon, he
spotted something between the leaves higher up in the tree. Staring back at him
were large green eyes. As his own eyes got familiar with the shadows, Jack
could see a dainty white owl. Her fluffy white feathers rippled gently in the
night breeze. Unblinking, she stared at Jack with curiosity and wonder.
It was the first time the Owl had seen a man living up so
high. What was even stranger; the man was awake and sitting on his roof of his
house. Everyone else was at home on the ground and fast asleep. The white Owl
had watched the man trying to reach for a passing dream, but it was just out of
his grasp. He seemed sad when the dream slipped through his fingers and
vanished into the night. Maybe, the Owl thought to herself, if she guided a
dream to the man, he would be happy and would then go to sleep.
As Jack watched, the Owl slipped off the branch and glided
through the tree and out into the night air. Soundless, she flapped her
powerful wings, circling higher and higher. Spotting a dream floating in the
distance, the Owl changed course and readied herself for a swift aerial snatch.
She was well practiced in catching dreams floating in the night sky. Her
purpose in life, other than being an owl, was to guide lost dreams to waiting
dreamers.
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The Owl wasn’t popular with the Dream Weavers, because of
her poor memory. Dream Guides are supposed to live in a town and get to know everyone.
On request of the Dream Weavers, the Owl was to deliver specific dreams to
specific dreamers. As hard as she tried, the Owl could not remember who was who
and where each dreamer lived and her delivery service was a bit of a hit and a
miss as a result. But tonight she was happy at the thought of a satisfied
dreamer.
Expertly manoeuvring between the branches of the oak tree,
the Owl guided the dream right into Jack’s waiting hands. Bursting with
excitement, Jack readied to catch the dream as the Owl perched close by. Jack’s
hands passed right through the dream. Frantically he tried to grab onto it as
it slowly drifted higher. Each time he tried to grab it, Jack’s hands passed
through the dream, unable to get a hold of the thing he wanted most. He shot a
desperate glance at the white Owl.
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As she edged closer to Jacks head, with wings beating
frantically, it wasn’t that the dream went into Jack’s head. Rather, Jack’s
head disappeared into the dream. “This isn’t my dream,“ said Jack to the Owl.
“It belongs to the Butcher,” He said pointing to a house. Deftly the Owl flew
through the tree with the dream out into the night sky. Stopping over the house
that Jack had pointed out, the Owl let go of the dream. It drifted down, as if
it was drawn by something or someone. Slipping through the roof, the dream
vanished from sight.
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The Owl brought Jack one dream after another, but not one
belonged to Jack. Exhausted, the Owl perched alongside Jack, sitting on his
roof. Together they watched the sun peek over the horizon. Jack watched as one
for one, the Butcher, the Baker and old Mrs. Smith, walked out of their house.
In the morning air; they stretched, smiled and looking into the sky said: What
a beautiful dream, what a beautiful day. With that each one went on their way.
A tear welled up in Jacks eye, and tumbled down as he laughed.
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