Let There Be Light
I can’t remember if the room inside which I attended all my classes when I was in grade six had lights, fluorescent tubes in particular. That was twenty-six years ago. That time we had classes until four o’clock in the afternoon everyday, Mondays to Fridays. So, we would leave school at least an hour before dark.
In my dream last night, I was in a square-shaped, window-less classroom with a few students whose faces I didn’t recognize. Inside, the only one I knew was Mrs. Y, our class adviser in grade six. In the dream she was standing beside an empty hammock hung by the right side of the classroom, the side where four or five window frames of wooden horizontal blades could have been installed. We students were all standing facing the empty blackboard. I didn’t see any armchairs or desks or tables inside the room. I noticed the room had no door, too. Then Mrs. Y suggested that someone should install the fluorescent tube she was now holding. The tube was over a meter long. On the ceiling were two frames for fluorescent tubes. Only one frame had a fluorescent tube installed; it provided the just enough amount of lighting in the room. I volunteered to install the tube in the frame. The tube was too long for the frame, I complained. Make it fit, she said. She didn’t say the imperative aloud. I could read her face say that. I can’t, I said, as I handed back the fluorescent bulb to her. She grabbed it and bent it in the shape of an arc. She gave it back to me; I tried to fit in the frame. It fit. There was applause. Then Mrs. Y pulled the hammock and released it, leaving it to sway like a pendulum. Then she walked out. I didn’t see her pass through a door because there was no door. She just turned her back, left, and disappeared without the other students noticing. Maybe, I was only me who saw her walk out. This was my dream anyway.
This is how that scene in the dream ended. We were all looking at the fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. An odd couple: one installed horizontally, the other sagging. Both were providing us light. It was brighter inside the room. Then we heard a thunder from outside. The sound didn’t wake me up; it took me to the next scene in this dream.
I was in what looked like a convenience store. It was well lit although the only frame for fluorescent bulb on the ceiling was empty. Outside, it was dark for there was a storm. I could hear thunder rolling. Then my mother walked into the store through the exit. She handed me a fluorescent tube. Install this, she commanded. I took the tube and installed it in the frame. It fit perfectly. Good, she said, now it’s even brighter here. In a few minutes there was an influx of people into the store, some wet. It’s brighter here, they said. You have to buy something somehow, my mother told the people, and leave your umbrellas outside. Indeed, they bought different things: matches, candles, canned fish, flour, sugar, even Juicy Fruit. I can’t recall the other items in the store the people bought or were looking for. As people left, more other would come, until they crowded inside the store. We need more light, my mother suggested. Then she took a longer fluorescent tube from a drawer. Install this, she said. I can’t, I said, it’s too long. I was actually thinking of replacing the tube which I had just installed. Not that, she said referring to the same frame. Then she pointed a finger toward a corner near the door above which there was an “Exit” sign. Above the sign was a horizontal frame for fluorescent tube. I pulled a chair and walked toward the exit. I stepped on the chair and waited for my mother who was walking toward me to hand me the tube. I took the tube and installed in the frame. It fit perfectly. The store became brighter. In a few minutes even more people came. People whose faces I couldn’t recognize. The only one I knew was Mrs. Y, our class adviser in grade six. She came to the store looking for a fluorescent tube. At this point there were only the two of us inside the store. Even my mother was no longer there. I didn’t see her leave. Mrs. Y and I were both looking at the fluorescent tube above the “Exit” sign as I was contemplating on uninstalling it from the frame and giving it to her. I woke up without reaching a decision.
{August 23, 2009}
In my dream last night, I was in a square-shaped, window-less classroom with a few students whose faces I didn’t recognize. Inside, the only one I knew was Mrs. Y, our class adviser in grade six. In the dream she was standing beside an empty hammock hung by the right side of the classroom, the side where four or five window frames of wooden horizontal blades could have been installed. We students were all standing facing the empty blackboard. I didn’t see any armchairs or desks or tables inside the room. I noticed the room had no door, too. Then Mrs. Y suggested that someone should install the fluorescent tube she was now holding. The tube was over a meter long. On the ceiling were two frames for fluorescent tubes. Only one frame had a fluorescent tube installed; it provided the just enough amount of lighting in the room. I volunteered to install the tube in the frame. The tube was too long for the frame, I complained. Make it fit, she said. She didn’t say the imperative aloud. I could read her face say that. I can’t, I said, as I handed back the fluorescent bulb to her. She grabbed it and bent it in the shape of an arc. She gave it back to me; I tried to fit in the frame. It fit. There was applause. Then Mrs. Y pulled the hammock and released it, leaving it to sway like a pendulum. Then she walked out. I didn’t see her pass through a door because there was no door. She just turned her back, left, and disappeared without the other students noticing. Maybe, I was only me who saw her walk out. This was my dream anyway.
This is how that scene in the dream ended. We were all looking at the fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. An odd couple: one installed horizontally, the other sagging. Both were providing us light. It was brighter inside the room. Then we heard a thunder from outside. The sound didn’t wake me up; it took me to the next scene in this dream.
I was in what looked like a convenience store. It was well lit although the only frame for fluorescent bulb on the ceiling was empty. Outside, it was dark for there was a storm. I could hear thunder rolling. Then my mother walked into the store through the exit. She handed me a fluorescent tube. Install this, she commanded. I took the tube and installed it in the frame. It fit perfectly. Good, she said, now it’s even brighter here. In a few minutes there was an influx of people into the store, some wet. It’s brighter here, they said. You have to buy something somehow, my mother told the people, and leave your umbrellas outside. Indeed, they bought different things: matches, candles, canned fish, flour, sugar, even Juicy Fruit. I can’t recall the other items in the store the people bought or were looking for. As people left, more other would come, until they crowded inside the store. We need more light, my mother suggested. Then she took a longer fluorescent tube from a drawer. Install this, she said. I can’t, I said, it’s too long. I was actually thinking of replacing the tube which I had just installed. Not that, she said referring to the same frame. Then she pointed a finger toward a corner near the door above which there was an “Exit” sign. Above the sign was a horizontal frame for fluorescent tube. I pulled a chair and walked toward the exit. I stepped on the chair and waited for my mother who was walking toward me to hand me the tube. I took the tube and installed in the frame. It fit perfectly. The store became brighter. In a few minutes even more people came. People whose faces I couldn’t recognize. The only one I knew was Mrs. Y, our class adviser in grade six. She came to the store looking for a fluorescent tube. At this point there were only the two of us inside the store. Even my mother was no longer there. I didn’t see her leave. Mrs. Y and I were both looking at the fluorescent tube above the “Exit” sign as I was contemplating on uninstalling it from the frame and giving it to her. I woke up without reaching a decision.
{August 23, 2009}
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