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Chronicle of Dreams #2: The Missing Game

Updated on May 19, 2020
Chardie Cat profile image

Chardie Cat is an author and writer from the Philippines who finds it uncanny that he usually remembers the complete episodes of his dreams.

Please Read with Caution

The chronicle you are about to read is a recollection of the events that transpired during my wanderings into the land of dreams. Somehow, I managed to capture pieces of the phenomenon upon my return to the real world.


I was in a scene that brings back memories

It was a sunny afternoon and my heart was filled with excitement when I arrived at the flea market. It harked back memories of the olden days, especially the times when I and my friends were selling pork barbecue for a philanthropic cause. But the place was already different—gone are the decaying woods and long tables that were made of bamboo and coco lumber. What greeted me was a modern, concretely engineered marketplace with a rust-free tin roof, a freshly painted basketball court, and tiled platforms for different local merchandises. I was amazed at how everything had changed since I was there three years ago.


Then, there was silence

I enjoyed checking out the place, but ear-splitting serenity put me in awe. I thought the people had deserted the place, but when I opened the gate to the basketball court, I was surprised by the booming sound of teenage players and several people watching the game, and cheering. I saw older familiar faces, tired and wrinkled by hard work, the heat of the sun, and treacherous time. I risked a glance over my shoulder but I saw no one. When I look back into the game, a church choir was already in the middle of the court singing an unfamiliar song. The blending of their voices filled the air with chills—like a hair-raising breeze that devoured the excitement in everyone’s face earlier.


And then, I was inside the basketball court

Everything was perfect when suddenly, I saw the basketball fly into the air in my direction. Before it could hit my face, I clutched it with one hand and realized that the people were nefariously yelling at me. I couldn't understand if they were mad at me or they were surprised at how fast were my reflexes. Before I could react to their screams, I noticed that the choir was already gone and the game was on. One of the players approached and reproved me for touching the ball, which made me a little confused. Then I realized, what the hell was I doing inside the basketball court when I was just sitting on the bench earlier? I threw the ball to the player and took a few steps out of the court.


But then, I missed it

Then in an instant, the choir was chanting again. I slowly moved to the corner, avoiding the contemptuous eyes of the onlookers. Not far from where I stood, I saw a few elderly selling various delicacies. I managed a smile and was supposed to buy some of their goods, but they ignored me. So, I backed off and decided to find a good spot on the side of the basketball court and sent my attention back to the game, but everyone was already gone—except for the ball in the middle of the court. I glanced back at the oldies, but they were also gone. There was no one else left but me—and I missed how the game had ended.


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