an excerpt from “The New House”
I don’t dream anymore.
Since I moved into this house,
My sleep is deep as the sea.
I used to be a big dreamer;
Keeping a dream journal, recording, analyzing,
Writing dream poems
Drawing nightmarish sketches.
I don’t dream anymore,
Even if my sleep routine is the same.
A cup of hot milk,
A brush on my teeth,
And ten pages from the book on my bedside.
Ten pages exactly, not nine
Or eleven,
Ten.
It’s like a countdown,
Like lighting fireworks or a spaceship.
Killing an old year and welcoming a new one.
At the tenth page, my eyes close.
I know the book is put aside and the light turned off,
But like for dreams,
I don’t remember doing it.
Ellie Chartier is a multi-literary artist born in Montréal. She writes in English and Français, poetry, short stories, and non- fiction. Her main focus is theater and performance that she writes and directs. She likes to “turn” an idea in different shapes, from a poem to a story to a play. Her last show, FIKA, at the Montréal Fringe was conceived that way.
