Vision Without Action Is Merely A Dream

A David Sands Competition story by Victoria Axon

An entry in The Sands of Time Writing Competition

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“Vision without action is merely a dream” - quote from Joel Arthur Barker

Emily shivered, the rain was soaking through her thin anorak and it clung to her skin. The neon-pink name sign shimmered in the rain. She knew it was time so allowed herself to be drawn into the brightly lit building. She could back out of at any moment - the therapist on the phone assured her it was very common and besides, they’d taken payment in advance.

Every patient had to see a therapist before their procedure - it was law for them to understand the full ramifications of their decision and the clinic had a responsibility to ensure that the patients were not under duress. Of course, it was relatively easy to get around the questions if you wanted to - a bit of Internet searching would give you the right things to say.

As she pulled open the door, she was met with a blast of humid air and music from a radio turned down so low, the drums sounded like a heartbeat. A young woman with short black hair and a nose ring sat behind the counter, scrolling on her phone.

‘Emily Robinson - I mean Jacobs. Emily Jacobs.’

The woman didn’t look up but sighed, clicked on something on her computer and then muttered, ‘Take a seat’.

Emily nodded and walked over towards the metal chairs bolted to the floor and walls. There was only three other people waiting. She’d heard rumours that the big commercial clinics just wanted you through the door, have the procedure and then out again as soon as possible so she’d picked a smaller independent clinic where, apparently, the staff would give you extra time if there wasn’t a wait. She peeled off her coat and shook it out before taking a seat next to a woman knitting. The woman had frizzy grey hair pulled into an untidy bun and skin puckered with age. The needles clacked like a ticking clock.

Brightly coloured information posters had been tacked to the walls: “Do you REALLY want to know?” asked one illustrated with a headshot of a woman thinking. “Remember it’s a CRIMINAL OFFENCE to talk about it” proclaimed another punctuated by a picture of handcuffed wrists. That hadn’t stopped Jeremy.

He had been late back from work but she didn’t know if asking him where he’d been was the right thing to do. He had been pouring some wine when the glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor, his swearing sharp and cutting.

‘Don’t you care where I’ve been?’ he’d shot at her.

‘Work? I thought you were working late,’ she’d said tentatively, like she was trying to calm a hungry, wild animal.

‘Well, I went to the clinic on my way home,’ he’d said, pride gilding his voice.

‘What clinic?’

‘You know - THE clinic - the vision clinic.’

Her heart had started racing - what had he seen?

‘First time here?’ said the woman next to Emily, pulling her back into the stifling waiting room.

The woman was clearly talking to her given the old man a few seats along seemed to be asleep and the young guy at the other end of the row had headphones on.

‘Yes. Is this your first time?’ Emily replied.

The woman chuckled, ‘In the waiting room? No, this would be my… let me see… fourth time.’

‘Really? You’ve backed out each time? That’s… brave.’

The woman waggled her shoulders noncommittally. The needles picked up their clacking again.

Emily wondered what Jeremy’s reaction would be if she went home and told him she hadn’t gone ahead with it. Money had been tight ever since the wedding, so they couldn’t really afford for her to come here again, although she suspected he’d be more annoyed at her breaking her promise. The argument they’d had that night gnawed at her insides.

‘I asked to see the end of our relationship,’ Jeremy had said.

‘What? I don’t understand - why would you do that? Why waste it on that?’

That hadn’t come out in the way she had planned. She hadn’t meant that their relationship was a waste of time, just why would he waste his once in a lifetime opportunity to see the future on something so negative.

‘Why are you being so irrational? I didn’t think it a waste. People most commonly use their vision allocation for life changing events. My parents did it when they got married - they both asked for visions on how the relationship would end.’

‘But didn’t you want to save it for something more… useful?’ She had the feeling she was opening her stupid mouth again, ‘What if you get told you’re dying?’

He’d shrugged, ‘And what if I don’t. My parents said the vision changed their life - made them appreciate their relationship every day. I don’t understand why you’re questioning me over this.’

The wine was sinking into the wooden floor. It would be her fault if it stained.

‘I just wished we could’ve discussed it first,’ she had said quietly, wondering if she was pushing him too far.

‘Why?’ He’d said, stepping over the broken glass and fetching another one from the cupboard, ‘Are you worried about what I might have seen?’

‘Emily Jacobs?’

She jumped thinking Jeremy had suddenly materialised from her thoughts - Jeremy was right when he called her irrational.

She drew in a deep breath and stood. The woman beside her grabbed her hand. It felt strong, leathery, ‘You know you don’t have to do this. I’ve been through that door several times.’

Emily wanted to ask the woman how, why, but she didn’t want to anger the worker who was standing in the doorway, his arms folded looking bored. She let go of the woman’s hand and entered the dark room, the worker’s white lab coat like a beacon pulling her onto rocks.

She saw it in the corner - a chair with a grey cap hovering over it. A lead exiting through the wall which was connected to a vast quantum computer system and some kind of particle accelerator underground. Every town and city had one lurking under their houses and businesses - the appetite for future visions vastly outweighing safety concerns.

The man directed her to a chair next to a desk that had an ordinary looking computer on it. He sat down opposite her and clicked the mouse a few times.

‘My name is Aaron and I’ll be administering your vision procedure today,’ he said in a monotone, ‘Can you confirm your name and date of birth for me?’

She couldn’t tear her eyes from the looming device. Soon she would be sitting in it seeing her future. She coughed, throat a desert of fear, and answered.

‘Ok,’ said Aaron, ‘Now I need to go through the formal questionnaire before the process. You already answered some of these when making your booking and talking to the therapist but we have to repeat them. Do you understand?’

Emily nodded.

‘You need to verbally confirm,’ he said, in the tone Jeremy tended to use when he called her stupid.

‘OK. Yes.’

‘Right, do you understand that everyone is allocated one vision in their lifetime and no exceptions are made to this rule?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you understand that unless you are specific about the moment you wish to see, you may not be presented with a satisfactory vision?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you understand that VisionTech Plc are not responsible for the content of your vision?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you understand that although you are entitled to a vision of five minutes in length, that should you die in your vision the length may be shorter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you understand that it is a criminal offence to reveal any aspect of your vision to anyone?’

She knew.

‘I hadn’t really thought through our vows you know - I always thought “until death us do part” was going to be it, Em. I thought that was how our marriage would end but I was so foolish.’

‘You can’t tell me - don’t tell me anymore Jeremy.’

‘Yes,’ she croaked.

‘Are you here of your own free will? Has anyone coerced you into getting your vision?’

Jeremy had sulked for the rest of the evening. She’d felt like she’d ended their marriage already without actually doing anything. He hadn’t said a word to her - watching TV then leaving the room to go to bed.

She’d slipped under the covers half an hour later having scrubbed the floor but the wine had stained the wood. She’d thought he was asleep but he’d rolled over, grabbing her arm making her jump, ‘You could go and get yours you know? That would solve everything.’

‘What?’

‘If you go and get your vision Em, it would fix it.’

‘But we’re not allowed to talk about it.’

‘If you asked to see the same moment then surely it doesn’t matter?’

It was hard to swim against the tide of Jeremy but this was important, ‘I… I don’t want to use it for that.’

I want to save it for something more important wasn’t said but had fogged the air between them.

‘Don’t you care about our marriage?’ he’d said,’ Isn’t it important to you?’

‘Of course-’

‘So why won’t you do this thing? For us? For me? Don’t you love me?’

‘Would you like me to repeat the question?’ asked Aaron.

‘No - no, it’s fine. No, I haven’t been coerced.’

It wasn’t like Jeremy had physically marched her into the clinic.

‘Ok, so we’re all set to go. All I need is the specific moment you want to see. I don’t need a time or date but it’s better to be as precise as possible. For example: five minutes before I die or blowing out the candles on my 50^th birthday cake. Just to reiterate, there’s no guarantee what you’ll see or that it will be a happy occasion. So what would you like?’

Jeremy had said he’d asked for the moment at the end of their marriage. He was adamant that she ask for the same thing.

Emily felt a splinter of worry niggle at her heart. It had to be awful, like both of them dying in a car crash. What if he killed her? But then why would he want her to know that? Maybe she packed her bags and left suddenly, and he wanted her to know that he knew so she wouldn’t go through with it. But you couldn’t alter the future - many had tried, all had failed.

The splinter grew - wrenching her insides apart. She didn’t want to waste her vision on this marriage. She didn’t want to waste it on Jeremy.

‘Actually, I’ve changed my mind.’

The old woman was still sat in the waiting area and smiled as Emily came out, ‘Glad to see you’ve changed your mind.’

‘How did you know?’

Emily felt dizzy as her heartbeat started to slow.

‘There’s a look - you don’t have it.’

Emily put on her damp coat and walked to the door. The rain was a grey, steel barrier blocking her way.

‘Why don’t you and I go get a cup of tea?’

The old woman had shuffled up next to her and was staring out at the rain.

‘Erm-’

‘You’re probably not in a hurry to get back to that husband of yours.’

Had she told the woman about Jeremy? She couldn’t remember - she felt she was chasing pieces of her mind like scattered paper in the wind.

The woman was already striding up the footpath by the time Emily muttered an uncertain ‘Ok.’ Emily chased her down the street as the woman hurried towards the coffee shop ahead. She paused in the doorway, allowing Emily to catch up.

The place was empty except for a bored looking barista behind the counter.

‘Mine’s a tea. Milk.’ said the woman, easing herself between a chair and table. She’d picked a spot as far away from the door as possible. Emily went and got their drinks - two teas.

When she’d settled into her chair, she looked more closely at the woman. Her face was pale, eyes a sharp blue staring back at her. She looked older than Emily had first thought but wielded wisdom like a sword.

‘I have to say,’ the woman said, blowing on her hot tea, ‘I’m surprised you didn’t go through with it, but I’m glad you didn’t. It would’ve been the wrong decision.’

‘How do you know?’ said Emily calmly, despite her head spinning.

‘I used to be like you- a bit of a pushover -’

Emily opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it and picked up her teacup.

‘Well?’ said the woman, ‘I just called you a pushover. Aren’t you going to say something to me?’

‘I…’

‘No you’re not because you’re a nice girl who has been taught not to rock the boat. To be grateful for what you’ve got. Even if what you’ve got takes control of you to get a free hot drink.’

The woman took a loud slurp of her tea.

‘I was the same,’ she continued, ‘All I could expect in life was a man who told me what to do, what to think - didn’t respect me. And I told myself he was good. That sticking it out was what marriage was. That I was the irrational one.’

Emily felt a punch of familiarity, ‘Marriage isn’t all sunshine and rainbows,’ she muttered.

‘Of course it isn’t, but I could tell by your face that getting your vision wasn’t what you wanted. It was what he told you to want.’

‘How would you know? You haven’t gone through with it either.’

‘Is that so?’ The woman smiled to herself, ‘My first time in the waiting room was because of my first husband - just like you. I came to my senses and we divorced. That first time was how I found my strength. Learnt who I was and who I could be.’

Emily shook her head, ‘It was so important to Jeremy.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he saw the end of our marriage.’

‘So?’

’So he wanted me to see it too.’

‘Why? If it is going to end anyway?’

Jeremy always knew best but this old woman was voicing the same doubts that had been her shadow for months. Emily sipped her tea, scalding her tongue - fit punishment for being a coward.

The door to the cafe banged open and the old woman raised an eyebrow, ‘And here’s your husband now.’

She turned in her seat to see Jeremy, clothes dark from the rain, his face pale with fury.

‘No!’ he screamed as he stalked towards them, ‘No! No! No!’

‘Jeremy, it’s ok. Please calm down. What’s wrong?’ she said, failing to hide the tremble in her voice.

‘I need to talk to you outside,’ he said, his eyes not moving from the woman sat opposite Emily.

‘It’s pouring- ‘

‘Outside! It needs to be outside,’ he said, his tone driving ice into her stomach. He was losing control but she was safe in here, with other people around her.

‘No,’ she said quietly, the fear muffling her voice.

He reached down and grabbed her wrist.

The old woman leaned across, placing a hand over Jeremy’s.

‘This is not how it goes,’ she said to Jeremy, ‘You know it.’

Jeremy scowled but dropped Emily’s wrist.

‘You didn’t do it,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘You promised me.’

‘How did you know?’ she whispered.

He laughed scornfully.

‘I… I couldn’t do it. It was my vision, Jeremy, and I didn’t want to…’

‘To what? “Waste” it on me?’ his voice mockingly her.

She looked down at her hands and nodded. This was the first time she had not followed his wishes. They’d got together so young and him telling her where they were going - taking charge of things - had seemed romantic at first. It was nice having a man who was decisive and seemed keen that she was always with him, but gradually he had more opinions on how she dressed, who she was friends with, what she did, what her thoughts were. Until she wasn’t Emily anymore - she was Jeremy’s wife.

But this vision was hers.

Jeremy sat down next to her and gently took her hand. A thin-lipped smile twisting his face.

‘Em, you can still save us. If you go and get your vision now it will make everything right.’

‘It doesn’t work that way sonny, and you know it,’ said the old woman, folding her arms and leaning back in the chair.

He ignored her, ‘Come on Em,’ he said, standing up and tugging at her hand.

‘Why?’ She said, pulling her hand out of his grip, ‘Why does it matter so much Jeremy?’

‘Because this is what I saw! This! You not getting your vision and instead drinking tea with a mad woman. You refusing to obey me.’

And suddenly it all made sense to her. If she’d got her vision, she wouldn’t be sat in this cafe with Jeremy shouting at her. He was trying to steal her vision to keep control of her and he hadn’t deemed her worthy to explain why. The years of being moulded in Jeremy’s hands, made her a deformed thing she didn’t recognise any more. But now she knew it was over - she would escape.

‘Obey you?’ she said, her back straightening, ‘I’ve obeyed you for years Jeremy. THAT is what’s ending our marriage - not some stupid vision. I’ve spent my life pandering to you and it’s about time, I started doing what I want to do.’

Jeremy snorted, ‘Whatever. If you’d gone through with it like I’d told you to, we wouldn’t be here. It’s all your own fault - just you remember that!’

‘Ironically,’ said the old woman turning her icy blue gaze to Jeremy, ‘If you hadn’t coerced her into getting a vision thereby causing her to leave the clinic and sit having a cup of tea with me, you wouldn’t be here today.’

Jeremy laughed but said nothing.

Emily took a breath to steady herself, ‘Have a nice life Jeremy.’

Jeremy picked up Emily’s teacup, threw it at the wall then stormed out the cafe. Emily took some deep, shuddering breaths trying to calm her mind that was spinning around what had just happened and the future that had just opened up in front of her. She watched the cafe manager walk over and silently mop the tea as if this was a regular occurrence.

The old woman waited patiently, slurping her drink.

‘You knew,’ said Emily eventually, ‘But how did you know? You never had your vision.’

‘I didn’t say that. I said I’d been in the waiting room four times. The fourth time was today but I didn’t say I was waiting for a vision. The first and second times I backed out. I had been planning to ask about my marriage and then about children, but I knew that nothing would change the eventual outcome. The third time I came after my second husband died. He was a lovely man but he left very little impact on the world and I thought - will that be me? I want to leave some kind of footprint, so I went in and asked to be shown the moment when I would change someone’s life. That was the time I went through with it.’

‘And you saw this?’

The old woman gave a final gurgling slurp of tea then smiled at Emily, ‘It’s illegal for me to tell you that you know.’

She got up, gathering her handbag and with a final pat on her shoulder, left Emily sitting in the cafe.

Emily pulled out her phone - it was time to decide her future, time to move forwards. A text message lit up her screen:

“We’re sorry you didn’t have your vision today. Here’s a 20% off code for next time.’

Her finger hovered over the message - maybe it would be helpful to see what she did next….

She shook her head. She could do anything she could dream of.

Victoria is a writer from Worcester who, by day, works in cyber security, and by night can be found sitting at the keyboard questioning her life choices. She is currently attempting to get her first novel published and finds that writing short stories is a good way to avoid working on the first draft of her second book. When not damaging her self-esteem by writing utter drivel, she can be found in the garden, reading, knitting or reading her work to her dog, who judges her by falling asleep.

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