The City of Lost Dreams
Sometimes it takes a lifetime to fulfill the heart's desire
Gibberish: Flash Fiction Friday - Seasonal
June 20, 2025
Scoot’s Assignment: Write about a city, including well ordered confusion, a character personifying a season, and the phrase, “that’s not how I remember it.”
The City of Lost Dreams
In a different time and place, there was an old man who’d become unhappy with his life. He had all the material things anyone could want, but his heart felt empty. In desperation, the old man paid a visit to the City of Lost Dreams. He wandered through the well ordered confusion of the streets, following the carefully laid out system of grids, which were populated by a chaotic throng of all sorts of people, all different, but all lost, all searching for their errant dreams. Just like him.
He’d visited once before, long ago in the time of his spring-like youth, but he’d been too impatient and eager to get on to the excitement of summer, so he gave up and left before he’d found his dream. After that, he was too busy having fun during his summertime, and by the time he’d reached his autumnal years, he was too saddled by obligations to waste time on snipe hunts, so he’d never returned until now, well into the winter of his life. He knew that he did not have many years left, so this would be his last chance. If he failed, he would die with his fondest dream unknown and unfulfilled. He was determined to find and capture his life’s dream.
His steps led him through the city's streets, where he met three fellow wanderers.
First he met a young lad who was juggling bubbles. He tossed each ephemeral globe high in the air, but instead of allowing it to fly free, he grabbed at it, causing each floating dream to pop as soon as it touched his hand.
The old man watched the juggler toying with his happiness until he could stand it no longer. “Young man, why do you waste your time grasping at shadows? Perhaps you might have better luck if you allow a dream bubble to float where it will and follow it, instead of fruitlessly clutching at empty air.” The boy stared at the old man a moment, ready to retort sharply, but then he noticed the gray hair and lined face and realized that the elder was perhaps wiser, having had more experience. So he allowed the next bubble to float away, and he ran after it joyfully. The old man smiled at the lad’s youthful exuberance and continued his own search.
Next he met a beautiful woman, in the full flush of summer. She stood within a field of daisies. She reached out her hand repeatedly to pluck a bloom, and then proceeded to pull off each petal one at a time, reciting, “He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not…” Each time, the daisy told her “not,” and she became sadder and sadder, sure there was no dream here for her. The old man spoke: “Beautiful lady, why do you destroy your precious blooms? It is wrong to kill the flowers and desecrate their poor bodies so. How can the dead grant dreams to the living? Perhaps you should try enjoying the beauty of the living flowers and then your dream may come to you.” She looked at him and when she saw the broken heart within his eyes, she realized that he understood, so she decided to try things his way. She was standing before the flowers, meditating on their simple perfection, when a soap bubble floated into the field, landing gently upon her before popping with an irridescent explosion of rainbows. The young man, who’d followed the bubble faithfully, stood before her and their eyes met and they both smiled. The old man smiled and tactfully stepped out of the field, so the young lovers could continue to chase their dreams together in peace.
Next the old man met a farmer, in the autumnal prime of life. He stood in the midst of a huge field of wheat, unsure how to begin the Herculean task of harvesting. The old man studied the situation for a while and suggested, “Perhaps you need a helper.” The farmer realized that a helper was exactly what he needed, but he had no children to whom he could pass on his farm. When the juggler and woman of the daisies wandered into the field, he offered them apprenticeships and they happily agreed, as they were eager to embark on their future together. The old man smiled sadly and turned to leave, when the farmer called him back.
“Old man, you have helped all of us, so perhaps we can help you, too. Walk down the road through the oak grove until you come to an old cottage. Knock on the door and you may find your dream there.”
The old man did as the farmer suggested, following the path through the whispering oak grove until he came to an old cottage. He knocked on the door and an elderly woman opened the door and invited him inside. As they sat and talked, he suddenly realized that she was his long lost unrequited love. He’d loved her desperately when they were both young, but they’d somehow lost touch with each other long ago.
“Why did you ever go away,” she asked.
“I thought you never cared for me,” he answered. “I could never get you to notice me.”
"That’s not how I remember it,” she replied. “You were so busy looking into the future that you never stopped to see that your dream was right before you all along.”
He looked deeply into her eyes. He still loved her. “Can you ever forgive me?” She didn’t speak, but just smiled and placed her hand over his. Together, they left the City of Lost Dreams to enjoy a happily-ever-after in the winter of their lives.
That's lovely. Almost a kind of magical realist fairytale. Which is right up my alley!
Delightful!
And on the summer solstice too! Wonderfully appropriate!
Such a beautiful tale Jeannine, a lesson to us all. So heartwarming!