I have had a recurring dream, and it refuses to go away. I stand in the doorway of a poorly lit room. It’s musky and smells of age old cologne and festering food that has been forgotten about. It’s filled with a few creaky leather chairs that rock back and forth methodically, within them decrepit people sit. Their eyes, framed in crows feet are glassy. Some of their mouths sit askew, their jaws loose on hinges worn away.
There’s a small window in one corner, its panes murky and fogged from years of neglect. A beam of pale light sifts through it and from time to time one of the inhabitants stares at it longingly. A clock ticks somewhere, a constant ‘flick, flick’ to maintain a room that is slowly creeping through the years.
One of the chairs groans, I turn to look at it. Within a lady sits, her face contorted. An arm like a withering branch is extended from the leathery confines of her seat. After a few moments a nurse swoops in from nowhere and places before the lady a tray. Upon it as if spawned from a portal to another world, a silver laptop rests.
‘Yes dear’
She croons
’It’s alright, I’m here… Yes, you want me to to log it in for you? That’s lovely dear.’
The lady in the chair begins to sway to and fro with furore,
‘Mhmm!! mhmm!! Toxic!’ she shrieks as she glares at the screen.
’ You don’t like what this man says about the berserker builds? I understand it’s ok.’ the nurse replies.
She leans over and begins to type carefully. Every so often the old woman nudges the nurse with a shaky leg and murmurs causing the nurse to tap one too many keys and typo. The nurse smiles and continues until the mumbling and bumping stops. She turns to check that the lady is satisfied with her contribution and then backs away.
As if a fire has ignited within this lady’s soul she sits up abruptly and smacks a bony finger down on the mouse keys.
Perhaps she is reliving her childhood within that very moment.
Perhaps as she brings her finger down on the ‘post reply’ button, she remembers something.
Perhaps, for just that moment…
She is alive again.
A tear peels down her cheek and she sinks back into her seat.
’I’ll always play how I want, always.’
‘Yes dear, I know dear.’
The nurse quietly plucks the laptop from the tray and dissipates from the room as the lady drifts back into her glassy eyed stupor. The light flickers in the window and outside somewhere a car sputters past. The clock ticks on.
