Dry Pool

A dream I had during an afternoon nap on November 5th, 2015.

D R Y   P O O L

Written by 

M A R K E Y

Once I entered the tunnel entrance of the Pool, I completely forgot where I had come from and why I had decided to come here. I could only grasp that I had come from somewhere, and it was far away from where I was now, if not on another world entirely- a world that really didn't matter. The tunnel opened up into a large concrete pool, with a starry sky above. It was light enough to see from one end of the Pool to the other, although it was massive and wide open. The walls on either side were slanted inward, with holes above them where water was supposed to flow through into the structure. 

There were clusters of people scattered around, which reminded me that I had been invited into a very private social circle. So private that all of us were anonymous, clothed in black with colorful paper masks that covered their heads. In retrospect, I wonder how the whole thing began in the first place, if none of them had known each other before. I assumed it had something to do with the way this Pool could suck away the memories you once clung to. 

The next thing to notice when entering is the atmosphere. It had this smell of excitement, genuine enjoyment, and lifelessness all at once, which shouldn't make sense, but here, it did. Not only could you smell the essence of the pool, but also the inward identities of the other party guests. I can only equate it to how animals possibly recognize one another, but on a more spiritual level. You can feel them, each person complex and massive enough to stink up the whole pool, but you can smell each individually, and it's as if you were all the same and not all at once.

The one who invited me to the party, who I could sense was a great leader among us, wore the hot pink head of a paper Koi fish. I followed her around, not out of shyness or reliance, but because I knew that she was where I could get the most out of this experience. She took a great liking to me, since we resonated well, and everyone else knew that. They could feel it to, I imagine, since I immediately was given great respect, even by more seasoned revelers. 

And then there were the ones we couldn't smell. This is one of the last places that Pink Koi led me. Against one of the sloping walls were a few strangers, with no clothes and no masks. The fear on their faces made me laugh. She pointed out one to me, a middle aged man who was curled up in a ball with his hands over his head. He was shaking violently, teeth chattering. He looked up at me with innocent eyes as Pink Koi explained his presence here. He was bought just for me, as a gift to enter the society. She handed me a gun, and said that I was the odd one out, and that if I were truly to be a part of their unit, I had to show my disregard for the lives of others without their animal heads. The other revelers gathered around, holding their paper cups of punch and watching to see what I would do with bated breath. For one moment, the atmosphere that once filled the Pool ran dry. I felt completely isolated, neither on the side of the revelers or the man I had the gun pointed towards.

Losing that connection with the other revelers was as painful as weeks of withdrawal, so I took this man's life. I remember smiling, filling his naked back and belly with led. The others clapped and cheered for me, and the atmosphere I had lost only seconds ago flooded back into the Pool. Those seconds felt like years. 

But before we could resume our party, our attention was turned towards the tunnel, where red and blue lights flashed from outside. At that moment, we knew the party was over, but we all smiled under our masks, because we knew that we would one day return to the Pool, no matter how long it took.  

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Author's Note

Detailed critiques are highly appreciated! I'm very sorry for the confusing descriptions, but it's hard to put a dream into words sometimes.
An illustrated cover may be added later.

Reviews

[RNK]

I love it! I definitely has a dream feel but is descriptive enough to make sense to other people besides the dreamer. That takes talent!