Birds In The Drop Ceiling

Chapter 3

"It's Not Only a Dream"

Saturday night, clear sky, the moon was full, a bit of a chill in the wind which is to be expected for the season. Snow slowly melting as the spring filled the air. Devon sat at home alone in the comfort of his favorite chair with the TV on. The sound was low. Devon was never a TV person, but it gave him some company while he listened to music playing from his turntable. The crackle of the sound overlapped the music. New technology was never his thing, and for Devon, with his daughter away on a school trip, made that more of a reality. Devon held a glass of his favorite Shiraz, red and bitter cold. His phone next to him rang. Devon answered,

"Hello"?

"Hey dad, Guess who."

"When you say Dad, that kind of gives it away." Devon said with a sarcastic tone.

"That's it, you're getting you snow globe." Skye said.

Devon smiled while he picked up his glass for another drink.

"Oh, come on I must have a million of those by now."

"So, are you having fun?"

"Yeah I am. It sucks that I only have four more days left. I want to stay longer and actually meet some of the artists."

"Well, if you do, call it a bonus. If not, there is always next year honey."

Suddenly a crackle sound came over the phone.

"Skye, is someone with you?"

"No, I think it might be on your end." Skye said

Devon remembered the phone still needed repairing.

"Oh, I forgot about the landline is still on the fritz. Just call my cell from now on okay." Devon Said.

But the static over the phone was getting worse. Devon was getting annoyed.

"Well sweaty, I must let you go for now, call me in a couple of days and tell those so-called artists to keep their hands off my little girl."

"Oh my god, I'm sixteen, give it a rest."

"Okay sweaty I'm hanging up now–and remember what I said." Devon said as he hung up the phone with a smile.

Devon Moved from the living room back to the kitchen. Baked fish was cooking in the oven as he opened it. He prepared seasonings and grabbed a fresh bottle of wine from the fridge. The phone rang again; Devon grabbed the wireless phone from in the kitchen.

"Yes Skye, I'm serious, no boys are taking you home." Devon said with another smile, but no one answered.

"Hello?

The call disconnected. Devon sighed.

Devon gathered his food and headed back to his living room. The beautiful sound of My Morning Jacket playing in the background while the fish steamed with flavor. Devon took his first bite. It was delicious. Seconds later, a high pitch sound rang out. Devon looked around, sat his plate down and went for the record player.

"It's always something isn't it?" He whispered to himself?

Then the sound got louder and louder. The high pitch frequency overcame him like nails on a chalkboard. Its agonizing sound dropped Devon to his knees.

"I'm dreaming!" He yelled in pain.

"I'm only dreaming!"

The record player stopped. The high pitch sound was gone, it was quiet. Devon on his knees looked around with a painful expression on his face.