Android dream #73

A young girl of seven or eight is standing atop a promenade with her father and mother. Below is their car, while the valley spreads out into the distance. The father looks hunted and confused, the mother is silent, a quiet backdrop in shade. The father grips the faux roman style white marble balustrade and throws himself over the edge… He plummets slowly and lands on the cars roof with a heavy sound: the daughter is aghast. But he quickly picks himself up and appears instantly next to her.

“Don’t do that again!” She wails. This is the second time now he has thrown himself over the railing in an attempt to prove a point.

“Its ok, its ok, I’m a ghost,” he says. “I’m a ghost!”

“But you’re my father!” She cries. He looks around fearfully.

“No no no, I can’t be, I’m a ghost, see?” He turns transparent. “I’m somewhat transparent,” he says.

The little girl is adamant. “You are definitely my dad,” she proclaims, folding her arms in defiant adjudication. The mother stands back in the shade of an ornamental fir, smiling slightly.

“Nooo!” The ghost father screams in anguish, gripping his hair. “It can’t be, why would I ever do something like that? Even if I could!” He sobs in denial, pulling his overcoat tighter about him.

“Because you’re all desire up there,” the little girl gestures to his wild, curly hair, pouts, and turns her back on him.

The ghost father scatters and runs, flying transparently away out over the hills and down into the valley, where ghosts sometimes still sleep.