A man, a woman, a world flying off its hinges...

   He knows something is wrong. It’s the way his muscles ache, the way his body wraps itself disorderly around the chair. He knows it: some part of him knows it, some fiber inside is publishing the news. But he doesn’t want to take responsability. He knows there is a stupid, terrifying and useless war going on. He knows the stock markets are falling like sand castles. He knows  the  system is cracking. He knows tomorrow may find him on the street, begging, tearing open garbage bags for left overs. He knows love has come and gone like a plant that first blossoms, then wilts and dies. He knows his sexuality is lying unused, like a tool the owner has discarded. He knows all of this and much more. But he just sits there dreaming of ladies dressed in nothing, of splashing water, of Jews and Arabs hugging themselves in the osasis, of slick dressed machos that parade their feathers as if they were geese, of deserts that burst alive with flowers of all shapes, colours and sizes. He dreams but can do nothing.

   She knows too that something is wrong. That is so because her head aches and she lies on the bed as if stuck to it. She knows her world is crashing about her. She knows she may die before doing anything significant. She knows that. She knows the sands of the desert will always be covered with blood, as will the mountains and valleys and seasides and cities and towns. She knows her children will leave her spitting out her last words. She knows she has lived a lie, she knows he cheated on her, she knows she cheated on him, she knows love was something she read about  in school. But she just lies there dreaming of men kissing her hands and feet, butterflies flapping their wings on her braids, of the soft breeze inflaming her soft skin, of blacks and whites and reds and yellows and Cristians and non-believers playing cards on a spring afternoon, of perfumes and incense floating lazily throughout the house. She dreams but can do nothing.

   Will they ever stop dreaming? Will they ever get up from their chairs and beds? Embrace each  other? Say: "on  with it?"