Day Dream

The smooshed face of a little boy shown out from the crawling cluster of cars across the enormous expanse of concrete. His eyes were big on his flattened face, pressed eagerly against the glass of the back seat window.

Though he knew it was day time, the sky was gray- ominous clouds littering the sky, threatening a downpour. The threat, though, was empty. The rain never came and the clouds never cleared. The boy in the window hadn't known another sky, a colorful sky, bright with sunshine. His world had been filled with deery gray and dark smog since he could remember.

Except now, as he gazed in wonder out the window passed the almost parked traffic, he could see a patch of blue as bright as his eyes. Small, puffy clouds, pure white like he had never seen before, floating lazily across the great, unimaginable expanse of clear blue. And then below it another expanse of blue he hadnt seen before. It looked like water, but not like any he had experienced. It looked huge and endless, waves bouncing up and down routinely across the surface and then, where it met a crisp tan stretch of earth, white foam, the same pureness as the clouds.

The boy in the window couldnt help but stare in awe and amazement at such a sight. In fact it was all he had been able to look at for a long time, since their car had rounded the turn a couple miles back and this view rose slowly into his sight.

"Momma? Momma, can we go there?," rang his inquiring little voice, his face never leaving its station on the glass.

A woman sitting in the seat in front of him twisted to look at her son, a small frown making her thin lips turn down, "Go where?"

The boy pressed an impatient finger to the glass, pointing urgently at the view just a head of them, "There! There! I want to go there! Can we go there, Momma? Can we?"

The woman turned away from him once more and peered out of the window, squinting and searching. Her lips fell more, "No, sweetie. That's far away. We can't go there."

"But, Momma, it's right there! I want to go there," the boy insisted, not understanding his mothers reluctance when the answer was so easy.

From the back seat the boy could see his mother shake her head and without turning, in a piteous voice, "No, sweetie. That's a picture. It isnt really there. It's a picture of somewhere else. And we cant go to a picture. Hush now, your father is driving."

The boy frowned. What was his mother saying? How could it be a picture when he could see it so clearly? Why couldnt they go there?

He looked back out of the window, pressing his face back where it was to gaze at the view once more. As they crawled along, inching closer and closer, he kept wondering and wondering about what his mother had said. But then his eyes widened.

They had gotten closer, much closer, and he could see that his mother was right. The beautiful patch shining out above him was supported by a thick, metal pole, towering above the highway, wires snaking their way around it like vines. The view was framed on all sides by that same deery sky he had always known. And as they got closer still, he could make out smudges, imperfections in his day dream. The clouds and foam weren't as white as he once thought, the whole thing dusted here and there with with grey soot. A rip, in the bottom corner, tore through the perfect strip of grainy tan he had been gazing at for hours.

He couldnt beleive he hadnt seen this before. From so far away it felt as though he could run on that thin strip and into the crashing waves. He could feel the slight, cool breeze kiss his soft skin, the sunshine reflected all around by the clear, wonderfully blue sky warming him right back up. But it seemed the closer they got, the further away that dream felt. It felt just as far as his mother said it was.

The boy moved away then, moved away from the window and looked down.

They couldnt go there. It was too far. It was just a picture.

And they couldnt go to a picture.