Reality dreaming

It was a funeral. For him.

And as I tried to absorb the shock and accept the reality, this lady came up to me and asked if I knew him. Paranoia set in, I don’t know why.

Who is this? What does she know? Why is she asking if I knew him? Should I acknowledge that I knew him at all?

I found myself sitting down in one of the chairs. How she guided me to sit, I don’t know.

Damn she’s good. That was subtle. Must be careful what I say.

:You knew him?:

Yes, I do.

:It has been a shock to all of us here too.:

What happened?

:No one really knows. That’s the problem.:

How can this be? Inside, I was keening...

:I know. He was so young. I heard that his heart just gave out?:

Just gave out?

:Yeah. So sad. How did you know him?:

There was something in my memory banks but it was elusive. I decided to chance it and tell her.

I knew him through his blog.

She nodded, as if she knew, as if she was like me.

:Yeah. I heard that he wasn’t really doing anything.:

I tried to recall if I knew what he did during the day. But I couldn’t remember.

It must be what she said. But, oh,... why Wayne?

I woke with a gasp. Already scrambling in my mind, split second later, stopped, cos I didn’t know where to scramble to.

What did one do, when one felt this compulsion to find out if another person was alright? What did one do, when there was no way to call, to phone this person, when there was no number? What did one do, when only a voice could calm this fear inside, but there was no way to do it? What did one do, to get rid of this oh-so-real emotion inside; not knowing if the dream was real, or reality decided to take a page out of your dreams? How does one differentiate between the two?

It was so real. I thought I had made it come true, or it had seeped into my dreams to torment me, because it was had really already happened, a moment ago.