Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Lost!

I'm in Afghanistan, but it's a different sort of Afghanistan than the one I fell asleep in.

The dust is gone, replaced with hard packed dirt and even spots of green grass here and there. I can hear the voices of the men in my platoon who in reality sit twenty feet away from my cot, talking and playing cards. I'm alone with these voices, looking around and over my shoulders to see where they are. I'm confused. They sound so close but I cannot find them.

Trees close in around me and I'm lost, still desperately searching for the source of these all-too familiar voices. I stumble onto the entrance to a dark tunnel, overgrown with vines and green things. I step through into the shadow, following the voices which now echo around me. After only a few steps over the rough ground of the tunnel, I find myself in a long hallway. Brown stone faces me on either side and though I see no sconces along the length of the walls, candlelight scares my shadow into dancing fits as I walk onward.

I turn a corner, knowing now that I am hopelessly lost. I turn back around, wanting back out of the hallway but nothing meets my gaze but unending masonry. I turn again and the scene has changed again. I'm in a low ceiling'd room with display cases faced with dirty glass. Along the walls, tour guides in crisp blue uniforms point out directions to groups of people wandering through the building. A window, etched with iron, catches my attention. Outside, the sun is bright and green grass grows in a courtyard. A girl with long brown hair sits on a stone bench, book in hand.

I feel that I cannot ask anyone where I am or how to get back to my men but I feel that I'll get closer if I can just get outside. I run out of the room and down a steep staircase. I burst our into the courtyard breathless.

There is no courtyard. A dirt path beaten into the grass slithers along in front of me and trees fan out to each side. In front of me, across the path, is a sloping grassy hill and in the distance, I see rocky mountains and vast sandy plains. A colorful mosque sits by itself, shimmering prettily in the afternoon heat.

I turn back to the building, panic rising further as I realize just how far lost I've gotten myself in my wanderings. The voices rise around me again and I open the door, shuffling back into the building. The room has changed again. The ceiling is low and dozens of arches are spaced throughout. I cannot see the far walls facing the door.

I sink to my knees, despair filling my mind. Lost!

Suddenly, I realize that this could all be a dream. Yes, just a dream.

I try to wake myself up, squeezing my eyes together. The voices grow louder. So close.


I tear at my arm, pinching and ripping at the skin, yelling at myself to wake up. Wake up!

My fingers go to my eyes, ripping at the scarf around my neck and pulling it from over my eyes, allowing the sun to burst through my eyelids, doing what pain could not.

I wake up.






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