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Tims Traumtagebuch - März

06.03.2018 - 13:45 UhrVor 7 Jahren aktualisiert
"A man earnestly envies the whale."
© ZDF
"A man earnestly envies the whale."
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Nach einem ereignisreichen zweiten Monat, folgt ein arbeitsintensiver dritter. Einen kleinen Tagtraum konnte ich aber trotz mangelnder Zeit zu Papier bringen. Viel Spaß beim Lesen.

The Greatest

A man is solely standing in the middle of a circular lake. Its surface is covered by a dense fog. Merely the tip of the mountains that adjoin to the shore are visible to a man’s eyes, leaving the sound of a distant waterfall to be existent in his ears alone. The water is pleasantly cold, cooling down a man’s burning desires. A man’s head is still smoldering with the wildest thoughts, though; thus, he holds his breath and smoothly vanishes into the surrounding liquid, holding a meditative position for as long as his body allows him to.

Before he reaches for oxygen, a man decides to slowly open his eyes and finds himself startled, for he stares at a giant blue whale. Taken aback and in pure shock, a man does not dare to move. Fortunately for him, neither does the graceful apparition. The surreal moment evolves into a staring-contest and a man manages to lose himself in the big black eyes of this beautiful beast. The greatest creature of the entire planet. Majestic, magnificent and utterly gorgeous. A man blinks. Astonishment quickly yields to desperation, as a man starts to feel trivial and meaningless next to this breathtaking miracle. It must be wonderful to glide through the deep sea and every other creature passing by is in awe of your vast aura. A man earnestly envies the whale.

These thoughts must be abandoned, for a man realizes that he is running out of air at any moment. With panic written on his face, he desperately tries to reach the surface. His arms and legs wildly fluttering in the depth of the ocean. His mind is wild with anxiety of helplessly drowning to death. It takes all of his remaining strength and sheer will to reach his beloved air.

Nonetheless, the look on his face is rather dashed, as he blankly stares at the teal-tiled wall of the room, while sitting motionless in his bathtub. With a deep sigh he then gets up, dries himself off, slips in his fresh pajamas and heads back to his desk. A sober scent of paper creeping up his nose. A man sits down, smiling a wry smile, and begins to write.

© Tim Sifrin

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