Carnations, chrysanthemums burn dislodged nasal septum. Footfalls crunch gravel the stiff procession trod. Hunched-backed, they snake two-by-two offering white roses.
I sneeze blood into her pink handkerchief.
“Who died?”
“My grandfather.” Her eyes hid behind fine graying blinds—don’t know her.
Restless tremors shock…
“Am I dreaming?”
“Yes,” her reply.
I collapse awake clutching my ears.
This entry was posted on February 17, 2011 at 3:54 pm and is filed under Flash Fiction with tags adam dustus, Blog, flash fiction, flash55, microfiction, writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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Dustus Blog 
February 17, 2011 at 4:07 pm
Such a fascinating dream my friend…I see how well the title fits in. 🙂
February 18, 2011 at 4:12 am
Conundrum all round! Paradox! It’s a strange read, fixes me there but it’s like a bad dream…dadaeque like Ernst or Dali…we’re all growing out of the coffin…and we can’t wake up!
February 18, 2011 at 5:56 am
I love kolembo’s comment on it being akin to dadaesque — I can see that too in this poem of yours, the atmosphere and profound triviality of the dream favors encounters even surprises, in a naturalness in the sense that the characteristics of this ‘dream’ is that nothing in it astonishes us in the dream state.
I really enjoyed the eloquent execution of this poem.
joanny
February 18, 2011 at 6:02 pm
sneezing blood…
Adam yuck
no wonder you are a writer
smiles my friend
February 18, 2011 at 9:02 pm
Adam…
We always welcome your writing wizardry.
I don’t know about Dadaesque, but I know Dustusesque,
And brother…You Be It!!
Excellent 55 My Friend.
Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End
February 18, 2011 at 11:04 pm
fascinating…amazing flow from image to image…
February 19, 2011 at 9:31 am
Surreal imagery here. No wonder it turned out to be a dream ( nightmare) in the end!
February 19, 2011 at 1:33 pm
There’s something profoundly dark about this and of course surreal, made more powerful by your usual strong display of imagery, beginning with the compelling alliteration of “carnations, chrysanthemums.” I was glad it was just a dream!
February 20, 2011 at 11:21 pm
And that’s why I prefer arum and coke… I don’t imagine of sneezing blood….
That was real daaaaaaaaaaaark, Adam…
And that last line – “I collapse awake clutching my ears.” — LOVED the contrasting imagery here… super cool!!
February 26, 2011 at 9:27 pm
I’m there. in your dream, you write so well. The roses, the stomping and the hunched backs all paint a vivid image. I picture a mixture of WWII and Italy and a brick street or do they call it cobblestone?