Another Dream by Berit Ellingsen

In a crowded place that is only doors and windows, and where people feel the need to come and go all the time, even in their sleep, there’s a wooden house like the ones at the coast, where the ocean takes love bites out of the land and the wind always whispers, only this in the mountains and the light is bright and rarified.

In the only room, with a checkered floor shaped like a circle, there are many tables and chairs. Here, women and men that look like you and me sit typing and drinking coffee. The coffee is black or brown or white, sweet or bitter, decaffeinated or hydrazine grade. Whatever way you like your coffee, the maitre d’ will graciously bring it to you.

In luminous letters that are mostly cosmic space and a tiny bit of matter, the men and women type prose and poetry and love letters and incantations and intentions and analyses and hopes and wishes about each other and the world. The process never ends and everyone can see what they write the moment the keys are pressed, like the thoughts in an infinite and interconnected mind.

[The author, Berit Ellingsen is a Norwegian writer and author of The Empty City.]