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He always have had beutiful dreams. All the people he know always told him that. But he lived in a little and grey valley and the dreams the people knew, were also little and grey. So he decided to leave his house and travel towards the big city. In the trip he talk with people and told them about his dreams, all the people he knew in the road, also told him that his dreams were the most exiting things they ever have heard. When he arrived to the city he was convinced that his dreams could bring him to the fame. He began to think how to show his dremas, because the stories he told weren’t even a small portion of his dreams. He began to work in a little warehouse where he learned how to fix bicycles and watches. He studied a long time this mechanisms, and finally arrived to a conclusion. If he could build a machine to show the people his dreams he could make a fortune in tickets. So, he began to work, assembling parts, watching he rotations of a thousands wheels, measuring carefully the lengths and rhythms of clocks and pendulous. Finally he finished to build the dream-machine: a big mechanism which could connect the Dream Maker with a small public.
In a few weeks the Dream Machine was a complete success. People form all around he country came to dream his dreams. Everybody came surprised and very happy after every show. The Dream Maker only had to sleep in the center of the machine, and the people, after the payment of a small fee, could feel the same he was dreaming. He was becoming rich and famous.
Until one day. A woman in the audience began to dream too. And the Dream Maker sensed it. It was a beautiful dream, better than anything he could make. He fell in love of the woman, and of the woman’s dreams. But when the Dreamer awake, the woman have already gone. He never could find her again.
The beautiful woman’s dreams that he had felt, began to torture his owns. He never could dream something like that. And form this day, the Dreamer began to have nightmares. But the public doesn’t complain. The people love to be afraid when they aren’t in danger, or when this aren’t their dreams. So more people began to came, even form other countries. The nightmares the dreamer had every day and every night, became a real national sensation. But he couldn’t resist anymore. Every time he woke up, he was trembling and cover in sweat. So he decided to stop dreaming. He began to take sleeping pills, and the nightmares disappeared, but also the dreams. Every night he could only dream clouds and fogs, gray smoke and freezing hazes. The people stop coming, stop paying for the dreams, and the machine began to rust and in a few months began to fall in pieces.
The Dreamer never dream again, even after stop taking sleeping pills. He returned to his town and now he lives and works there. Now and then he dreams a little, some lights and colors and a face of a woman. But he never told this dream to anybody.
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Comentarios
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| De: la cocinera políglota |
Fecha: 2006-08-28 17:02 |
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Nice story, Miguel!
Good luck :-)
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| De: Piccola |
Fecha: 2006-10-10 04:44 |
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So sad...
I can even feel the humidity of the fog.
How to do to cross barriers? dreams won't be like the first ones...
but, would be better to live numb? never give oneself a new opportunity? would be worthy with oneself only to pass?
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