The Parallax Promenade


It just a dream? It must have been, for I found myself mid-stride, exactly where it all began. Before, it was a starry night; now, dawn had broken, and I was no longer alone. Morning strollers along the river cast curious glances my way as I stood frozen in time, caught between one step and the next. But if it was merely a dream, why did it feel more like a memory, every detail vivid and intact?

Thus, my tale begins. I was leisurely strolling along Queen’s Walk around 3 am, the path entirely mine. I must have swooned and fallen asleep, for I found myself sleepwalking, though I suspect my body remained still from a parallax point of view.

Yet, I was not alone for long. From the shadow of a tree, a figure emerged.

I could hardly believe my eyes. It was King George III, looking as fit as any other man, though at that time of night he seemed more relaxed.

“He was in tailcoat, finely tailored. It was in rich colors like deep blue or red, adorned with gold embroidery and buttons and knee-length breeches made of fine fabric such as silk or velvet.

He wore stockings of white silk that reached just above the knee, held in place with garters.

“Underneath the coat, there’s a waistcoat elaborately decorated with embroidery in contrasting colors.

Around his neck, he wears a cravat tied in a fashionable manner.

And his shoes, made of high-quality leather, with a slight heel and adorned with buckles.”

He had a walking cane and he donned a powdered wig, which was customary for men of his status.”

Seeing King George III in such regal attire was like stepping back in time and I believe my dream had transported him to this modern world for the promenade was it always is though with a slightly gothic feel.

As he approached me I bowed, unnecessarily maybe but it seemed the right thing to do.

“Good morning. It is a pleasant time for a promenade is it not.” said he.

It is your majesty though I must say I am not certain how I came to be here, with you our times divided by centuries. Nonetheless,  I hope this day finds you well.

And good day to you. I do understand how things can be distorted. In my own experience I have found myself lost in a dream or might I say a nightmare malady..

And your name might be?!”

“Timothy Chyme.”

“Well Timothy Chyme, let us walk together with the time we have for it may end as quickly as it has begun.”

“If I may be blunt your majesty, our history speaks of your profound madness though as we talk and walk now it seems exaggerated.”

He replied thoughtfully, “Indeed. Well I am well at the moment and have been for some years however my health hath been a matter of much concern. There are times in the past, some four years gone now, when my mind doth play tricks upon me, and I found myself in a state of great distress.”

“I’m deeply sorry to hear of your suffering, Sire. Can you describe these afflictions?”

“Indeed, it is a most perplexing malady. There are moments when I am beset by a torrent of thoughts, unable to find peace. My speech becomes rapid, and I am oftentimes overcome by a sense of agitation.” He spoke in unexpected transparency.

“That must be very challenging, Your Majesty. Have the physicians provided any relief?

“Hmmm. The physicians have endeavored to aid me with various treatments, yet the efficacy of such remedies is oftentimes fleeting. They speak of humors and imbalance, but the true nature of my ailment remains elusive.”

I said, “Your resilience is commendable, Your Majesty. May you find strength and comfort in the days to come.”

I was unable to find it in my heart to tell him that his affliction would return and be much worse. Maybe I would have brought it up had I had some fitting advice to help alleviate the sufferings but I didn’t. Somethings I better left well alone. Besides, It was just a dream.

King George said after a minute, “Your kind words are much appreciated. I shall endeavor to persevere, for the sake of my kingdom and my people.

As King George III and I continued our promenade, we were soon joined by Queen Charlotte and their eldest daughter, Princess Charlotte.

Queen Charlotte, dressed in an elegant gown adorned with intricate lace and embroidery, greeted me with a warm smile. “Good morning, Timothy. It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said graciously.

I wondered how she knew my name but since it was just a dream anything would be possible and even plausible.

Princess Charlotte, a young woman of grace and poise, curtsied politely. “Good morning, Mr. Chyme,” she said softly.

As we walked together, the conversation turned to the arts and botany, two subjects dear to Queen Charlotte’s heart. She spoke passionately about her love for painting and the beauty of the natural world, while Princess Charlotte shared her knowledge of rare plants and flowers.

I listened intently, captivated by their enthusiasm and knowledge. I found myself sharing my own thoughts on the subjects, and the conversation flowed effortlessly and explaining how my lessons in history paled to this dream experience and wondered how such a thing was possible.

As the night wore on, the air was filled with the sound of music. A small ensemble had gathered nearby, playing a delightful melody that seemed to beckon us to dance.

King George III extended his hand to Queen Charlotte, and with a smile, she accepted. They began to dance gracefully, their movements perfectly in sync with the music.

Feeling a sense of joy and wonder, I turned to Princess Charlotte. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?” I asked, bowing slightly.

Princess Charlotte smiled and took my hand. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Chyme,” she replied.

As we danced under the starlit sky, I couldn’t help but feel that this dream, or memory, was a moment I would cherish forever.

I wanted to tell Princess Charlotte that one day she would be a Queen and I wished I could turn the tables on history and make things right in Georges mind so that the moment we shared in the dream would not be lost to them in the madness that would devour his majesty.

But something stayed my words and I simply whirled and swirled and twirled to the rhythm of the music and delighted in what, in reality or dream for it was just a dream, would be the most delightful and precious engagement of my entire life.

And then I swooned again and though I was still upon the promenade, from the misty shadows she came, not in all her glory as Queen but in regale that beckoned the meadows and field of a riding stable and accompanied by her precious four legged companions. All of them, beautiful Pembroke Welsh Corgis.

“Your Majesty.” I bowed deeply. “I am delighted to find you in my dream. I am Timothy Chyme.”

“What a delightful name. It is a pleasure to meet you, though we would have been better met if it was in the living world.”

The queen of my dream was that one of youth and vitality, as beautiful or more so than any image I had ever seen of her.

The Corgis, though well behave jumped about playfully and ran circles around Queen Elizabeth and I.

“I can name them all my Queen.” I nodded at the dogs.

And then a man came out and collected the pack, “Getting near feeding time your majesty.” He announced and all faded into the shadows leaving me alone with Elizabeth.

For a while we walked along in silence. I could see the depth of her thoughts in her eyes and realized she was in awe of the moment.

“I should not be here.” She finally said. My time in life is done but I do appreciate the moment you have given me to look one last time upon the promenade.”

And then she was gone. I felt like I had been given a gift.

As the mist cleared and the first rays of dawn began to light up the promenade,  the people who had been staring at me moved on I took that step I had been frozen in.

The dream had left me with a sense of wonder and a lingering feeling of gratitude. I took a deep breath, savoring the crisp morning air, and felt a renewed sense of ease in my life.

I adjusted my hat, picked up my guitar, and found my way to my usual place on the promenade. I set up my guitar case for tips and began to strum a gentle melody and sing with a new confidence and gentleness. The notes floated through the air, mingling with the sounds of the waking city. Passersby paused to listen, some dropping coins into my open guitar case, others offering a smile or a nod of appreciation.

As I played, I couldn’t help but reflect on the extraordinary encounters of my dream. The conversations with King George III, Queen Charlotte, and Princess Charlotte had left an indelible mark on my heart. I felt a connection to history, a bridge between the past and the present, and a reminder of the timeless nature of human experience.

With each chord, I poured my emotions into the music, sharing my story with the world in the only way I knew how. The promenade, once a place of dreams, had become a stage for my reality. And as the sun climbed higher in the sky, I embraced the day with a song in my heart and a smile on my face. And in that moment I played a wistful tune and added to my repertoire a new song. It’s Just A Dream.

It Is Just a Dream


It is just a dream, but oh what a dream it was,

Walking with kings and queens, under the stars above.

In the misty night, history came alive,

With every step we took, I felt so revived.

 

Oh, it’s just a dream, but it felt so real,

Every word they spoke, every touch I could feel.

In the dawn’s first light, I found my way,

With a song in my heart, ready to face the day.

King George in his regal attire, a sight to behold,

Queen Charlotte’s grace, her stories untold.

Princess Charlotte’s smile, a moment so sweet,

Dancing under the stars, our hearts did meet.

 

Oh, it’s just a dream, but it felt so real,

Every word they spoke, every touch I could feel.

In the dawn’s first light, I found my way,

With a song in my heart, ready to face the day.

 

And then she came, the Queen of my dreams,

With her corgis by her side, like a vision it seems.

We walked in silence, her thoughts so deep,

A gift of a moment, a memory to keep.

 

Oh, it’s just a dream, but it felt so real,

Every word they spoke, every touch I could feel.

In the dawn’s first light, I found my way,

With a song in my heart, ready to face the day.

 

It is just a dream, but oh what a dream it was,

A bridge to the past, a moment of love.

With each note I play, I share my tale,

Of a dream so vivid, where but life prevails.

 

There are those who believe that dreams are as real as the waking world set in a parallax view.