“No one needs to get hurt.”
“Sorry about that,” Diop moved the bird and his cage to another part of his small apartment. “He picked up some undesirable phrases on the street.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Declan cast a disapproving look at the parrot.
“Looking at the dreams you have recorded since our last session, you have had a significant reduction in interesting imagery,” the teacher flipped through the “illustrations” on an old-fashioned computer screen. He was so poor that he couldn’t even afford to have nanotubes placed in his brain.
“I’ve been keeping a dream journal, watching intense movies before bed, taking Galantamine pills, listening to meditation music…what more do I have to do?” Declan could afford to be openly frustrated with his droach. He was paying him after all.
“Have you allowed yourself to daydream regularly,” Mr. Diop asked calmly.
“Well yes, no…I don’t have time for daydreams.”
“The result of an education at that scientific institute of yours no doubt,” the old man shook his head.
“I can’t help it,” Declan sat upright; “I can’t drop out of school. I wouldn’t be good in a career other than the sciences.”
“The competition is in a few days,” Diop stroked his chin, a clear sign that he was thinking of a solution. “Well run through one sleeping session and see what comes up.”
Declan agreed and reclined fully on the couch, allowing his body to relax. He had enough experience falling asleep that he transitioned into a restful state quickly. Of course, that was when Prolix started crying from across the room.
“Fork it over, squawk, fork it over,” the infernal creature flapped about in its cage.
“Give me a moment,” Diop said as he walked over to the parrot.
Setting an empty fish bowl next to the bird’s cage, the man picked up his pet and turned him upside down in the aquarium. Prolix squirmed around, but his squawking was blocked out by the plastic walls around him.
“Can he breathe like that,” Declan stifled a chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I’ll only leave him in their long enough for you to get to sleep,” Mr. Diop handed his student a small plastic cup with two sleeping pills in it.
About an hour and a half later, Declan was pulled out of the darkness of REM sleep by an alarm. He immediately took up a pencil and pad of paper, as archaic items as they were, and wrote down what he had just experienced.
“Something…about penguins,” the young man ran his fingers through his red hair with his free hand. “There was lots of ice…and penguins that had a primitive underground city.”
“Well, maybe you’ll win the award for the most humorous dream,” Diop sighed.
“Why not?” Declan turned to his instructor. “Nyx has dark nightmares that impress people every year, and many champions of the past won with the weirdness of their dreams. Maybe some strange levity would win over the judges.”
“I guess we’ll find out Saturday,” Diop said as he looked over at Prolix’s cage. The bird looked ruffled after his earlier experience, but he seemed to have nothing to say on the matter. “Keep taking your Galantamine, and don’t forget to deprive yourself of rest on Friday night. We want you really tired for the big day.”
Declan thanked his mentor and uploaded the dream they had just recorded into his nanotubes. Physically writing about the content of his dream was only a way to increase retention. The actual digital recording c ould be played back for study.
As he walked to the door of the small, shabby apartment, Declan was given one last piece of advice by his droach – “eat plenty of cheese Saturday.”
***
The following day provided Declan with little rest, yet his evening dream lacked the stunning visuals he had hoped. Something had to be done if he was to win his prefecture’s Dream Off. His father’s medical expenses demanded a solution, and his tuition was racking up debt. After Central
“Sorry about that,” Diop moved the bird and his cage to another part of his small apartment. “He picked up some undesirable phrases on the street.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Declan cast a disapproving look at the parrot.
“Looking at the dreams you have recorded since our last session, you have had a significant reduction in interesting imagery,” the teacher flipped through the “illustrations” on an old-fashioned computer screen. He was so poor that he couldn’t even afford to have nanotubes placed in his brain.
“I’ve been keeping a dream journal, watching intense movies before bed, taking Galantamine pills, listening to meditation music…what more do I have to do?” Declan could afford to be openly frustrated with his droach. He was paying him after all.
“Have you allowed yourself to daydream regularly,” Mr. Diop asked calmly.
“Well yes, no…I don’t have time for daydreams.”
“The result of an education at that scientific institute of yours no doubt,” the old man shook his head.
“I can’t help it,” Declan sat upright; “I can’t drop out of school. I wouldn’t be good in a career other than the sciences.”
“The competition is in a few days,” Diop stroked his chin, a clear sign that he was thinking of a solution. “Well run through one sleeping session and see what comes up.”
Declan agreed and reclined fully on the couch, allowing his body to relax. He had enough experience falling asleep that he transitioned into a restful state quickly. Of course, that was when Prolix started crying from across the room.
“Fork it over, squawk, fork it over,” the infernal creature flapped about in its cage.
“Give me a moment,” Diop said as he walked over to the parrot.
Setting an empty fish bowl next to the bird’s cage, the man picked up his pet and turned him upside down in the aquarium. Prolix squirmed around, but his squawking was blocked out by the plastic walls around him.
“Can he breathe like that,” Declan stifled a chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I’ll only leave him in their long enough for you to get to sleep,” Mr. Diop handed his student a small plastic cup with two sleeping pills in it.
About an hour and a half later, Declan was pulled out of the darkness of REM sleep by an alarm. He immediately took up a pencil and pad of paper, as archaic items as they were, and wrote down what he had just experienced.
“Something…about penguins,” the young man ran his fingers through his red hair with his free hand. “There was lots of ice…and penguins that had a primitive underground city.”
“Well, maybe you’ll win the award for the most humorous dream,” Diop sighed.
“Why not?” Declan turned to his instructor. “Nyx has dark nightmares that impress people every year, and many champions of the past won with the weirdness of their dreams. Maybe some strange levity would win over the judges.”
“I guess we’ll find out Saturday,” Diop said as he looked over at Prolix’s cage. The bird looked ruffled after his earlier experience, but he seemed to have nothing to say on the matter. “Keep taking your Galantamine, and don’t forget to deprive yourself of rest on Friday night. We want you really tired for the big day.”
Declan thanked his mentor and uploaded the dream they had just recorded into his nanotubes. Physically writing about the content of his dream was only a way to increase retention. The actual digital recording c ould be played back for study.
As he walked to the door of the small, shabby apartment, Declan was given one last piece of advice by his droach – “eat plenty of cheese Saturday.”
***
The following day provided Declan with little rest, yet his evening dream lacked the stunning visuals he had hoped. Something had to be done if he was to win his prefecture’s Dream Off. His father’s medical expenses demanded a solution, and his tuition was racking up debt. After Central
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