Author Information
DREAM SHOP
Nobody knows where it came from or when. Just out of the blue it was there, between two tall brick apartments, squeezed enough that it look like it was going to be swallowed by the floor. Nothing special about the architecture, no big and flashy sign, just an old building slowly falling down. But it was special. Anyone could see it. Out of our depressing, insipid, grayish world, the store was brightly colored. Never seen such hue of purple, or that yellow. An odd dot, nothing logical.
When I think back, before entering the shop, the emotions it created by just the sight normally would have startled me. Feelings existed, it´s in our nature, but they were water down, not strong; it was like knowing the name but never experience it. But that was how things were. I could see that everyone was curious, I was curious. But it was not normal, curiosity was frowned upon. Through generations, we started to forget how too really feel, and the strange part was we didn´t know why.
So one day after work, I decided I wanted to enter, so I did. With nervous glances towards me, I passed the old wooden door. In contrast from the exterior, the interior was nothing but flashy. A bright sky blue painted the left side walls while a sick green de right ones. Upon the walls there were shelves upon shelves of jars with colorful candies. The disappointment that came to me was shocking, up to this day I don´t know what I wanted to see or what was I expecting. Because I had nothing to do at that time and I have little nephews and nieces I started walking aisle through aisle. While passing through I noticed the weird names each candy jar had: dreams, nightmares, love, purity, premonition, good and bad luck…
Suddenly a noise behind me startled me, it was an old woman that could pretty much be a gypsy, with her white hair, purple clothes, heave makeup…
“Welcome to the dream shop lad, you can look around but don´t touch”
“Dream shop? What´s that?”
“Where you can sell and buy dreams.”
“Dreams, why would I want one?”
“Do you have dreams?”
“No”
“No wonder you look almost dead”
“Do you know what a painting is? Music? How about a novel?”
“I have heard of them, but what does it have to do with this?”
“Because you need imagination to create that, something that dreams have, something that we lost a long time ago…”
“It´s our motivation, our feelings, our emotions. They´re what moves us to create, to inquire; what brings us to love and hate; our pride and our jealousy…what make us unique.”
“But they can hurt us.”
“But you will feel alive, because without them everything is meaningless.”
“Do you know why we lost them?”
Suddenly a screeching sound was heard all over the shop, so loud I stumbled back. It seems it was the shop alarm or I thought so, the old woman didn´t look alarm it was as if she didn´t hear it. It came to a halt with a loud bang. My vision began to fade but because I wanted to hear her answer I will myself to stay focus…
“Feel free to buy anything you want, if you need me I would be at the back.”
She leaved me alone after that, she didn´t gave me an answer. Even if she had, I don´t know if I would have believe her. Disappointed and tired, I decided to go home without buying anything. Before the door closed at my back and I started to see black spots, I swear I heard something, a murmur…
“…”
I woke up.
