I was dreaming. But the realness of my dream with frighteningly vivid and at the same time morbid, and as it progressed it took on nightmarish proportions..

Perkins, Chester

English

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Reality:Chester Perkins\\'LLS dream ing, But the real ness 0-( Iny dreal1l was higllten-'I!ngly vivi.l and at ',k~. Sallle:l'IIlI: rriorbid, and a ,,, rt progressedIt took 011 rl'l,C)ltrn;ln;iI j)lrJjJU1tlons, . • ,I was walking clown Main Street Just fo:' walking s sake,drin~(ing in all tbe wonderful sights SUJTot:,l1~Jl1gl;le.,~ncl ff.el~tortunat« 1:0 -.cc allc] be: a p',\1'[ or [ill' "J 1111''', 1)1 1111, . \i\ ithno particulur route or destination in mind,. _I turned 111to anarrow side street with wh ich I was unfamiliar .an'rJ vel_Ituredforth hoping to see more evidences of the beauties of life. Ishould have stayed 011 lVJain Street. . . . ,Aside Irorn dirty, unkempt buildings and streets, whichone often sees in large cities, the first two or three blocks Iwa lkc"l '.'.'1'["1:' IF)t 11 1ll1.:W' I : 1~11l ;\, T (In"I\' [a1',,1,':,1' avay From thenia in th .Fnrc. T 1)(':.;al1 tl) ':'_'C thin;,,_'s\'.-hi,'h ,,1,(wkec1 andhorr if eel 1Tl e,Filth, ruin , an'd dei-;radation were all about me. Buildings,disemboweled by searing', scorching names, stood gaunt andghostly against a Sl11og'gy.sky, whi!e hordes of looters scraped.their ashes in search of objects of little value, Beautiful young"'irb 11e':a111c cvippl»]. \',,-;-inkl'_-'cl ,,1r1 \1,'C)Il1C)l 1'''(''I'c 1!lV eves.~!ld v ou thl u ' ;,nrl v iril e ll'1Cll beCl]T1C '.\'(::,1 ;1..1'1,1 1!~,d(,·;,; 111irler'theweig~ht of Cjuickening years. Malformed babies became in-valid morons, w h ile o th cr» k:ll before an Ol'l,',bll,)'llt of thevermin plagues which swept clown the narrow c~l~fines of thestreet.)\t the next intcrscction t\VO automobiles merged into amighty, thunderous crash, a n d I could but stand by an'cl watchas the decapitated remains of their passengers came hurtlingthrough the air, to lanel with a sickening thud at my feet. Thetwistecl, battered vvreckage of tIle two cars made a grotesquesight which s0111e110\;vdid not seem out of place on this street.Farther on, two filtllY rats nibbleld at refuse and garbagewhich littered the street, \\'hilc :-;tarvillg dogs :',ccllnpcre'd tosafety at the sight of them. From between two bricks an acornhad sprouted, striving valiantly to become a majestic oak, butit now stood like a stick, devoid of leaves, branches, and bark"typifying the barren lives of the people.The next block was a battlefield of war, and I stood'appalled in the miidst of it, Bombed-out buildings were onlysmoking heap" of rubble and debris. and the parts of them whic11had withstood the barrage stood like jagged peaks, servingonly to accentuate the utter destruction about them. Dead43bodies of soldiers were strewn everywhere, and when I seemedabout to retell at the sight of one of then), I turned away only tofind myself looking at another. I thought, "This can't be. Thisis a civilized world. How can God have permitted this sort ofthing to exist?"The end of the street yawned at lny feet, a black al.yss. Ilooked into it for a moment, pondering. I looked up, and as.tlie edge crumbled beneath me, I caught sight of a street signwhich read, "The Avenue Of All Things Unsightly In One'sLifetime." The next instant, I was plunging through black-ness.I awakened with a convulsive start, and cold heads ofperspiration stood 011 my hot, aching forehead. I was frightened.:vVas this reality r Could it be that life was like tli is r Then Ilooked out through my darkened windows and collapsed onmy pillow, sobbing a sigh of relief, knowing that it was a dream,and that I would never have to see all those horrible things.To most people, those things are very real, but not to me.Each day I can escape them. You see, the darkened windowsthrough which I was looking are my eyes. I am blind.t~Y Father's Day In Hollywood~ V Mary Jane WhiteIt is Father's Day· in Hollywood, especially in the gorgeousBeverly Hills home of the glamorous actress, l<oberta Du-. prez Conley Enfidel lVlorgan Stienfelxl Stalile GolightlyMontjoy, the former Mu m ic Snitch. Her sons and daughtersare clustered around a front window awaiting the arrival oftheir fathers.Roberta, the most devoted mother in all filmdom-shespends as much as fifteen minutes a year with her children-is in the background gritting her teeth. She despises Father'sDay.'. She looks at her brood and says sweetly: "Now get thisstraight. No rat race like last year. You're all old enough toknow. your own fathers, Don't all of you go jumping on thefirst man that comes running up the walk." She looks Idubiouslyat young Pierre. "Y oung Pierre," she says, "Who is yourfather?" .Young Pierre scratches his head for a moment and thensays proudly: "My father is Mark Stable."Roberta stamps her foot. "Mark Stable is not yourfather. He is little Louella's father."44

Reality: Each Day I Escape It

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Reality: Each Day I Escape It

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