Dream #9: The City of The Bridges Who Sighed

by Christos Polydorou

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The bridges in the city of the bridges who sigh are referred to with the subject pronoun who rather than the object pronoun which, because the city is built on these bridges suspended above the clouds which sigh when they are crossed, in a future where we all live, lifted, away from the waste of humans forever building a smaller and better machine. We got rid of all the cars, but many of them were set on fire, and they were set on fire, because the people who owned them had paid too far and too long for the cars, either for the mortgage of the car, or its insurance, the gas it needed to run, the extra tyres when there was a flat, etc. Earth is in a stage when it is recycling all the waste left; now what is left is poured in this ubiquitous population, where ten billion people live, in a single city. The traveller arrives in this city from another time and place, half of him from the past, half of him from the present, so that in the future he is a complete stranger, or an outsider, like an urban fox. He walks across bridges for years and years until they bring the traveller each time to the edges of the city where there is a drop to a part of the world where the forests are young and old, untouched by human avarice, long enough to expand. In the city of the bridges who sighed, the traveller sits with the other ten billion people on the world, and wait for Earth to renew Herself so that they may enjoy the benefits of living close to the soil, not to mention, to the sea. The traveller discovers sooner or later the irony of being granted the ability to fly, and hopes to wake up from this dream in a world where one’s head is on one’s pillow and one’s feet are close to one’s bedroom floor. Be careful what you wish for, but we have visited that city already, too. Now, we live with ferocity.

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