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Friday, 19 August 2011

The Dream.


This is the dream sequence! It's not exactly how I planned it. In fact, it differs hugely to my plan. It finishes on a cliff hanger as I now intend the dream to be concluded on another occasion, which will hopefully tie up ends much better than it being a complete dream at this point in the story.
I'm not going to explain anything as after all, it is a dream, therefore open to interpretation. And, I'm sure things will become clearer with the next dream instalment. I hope it's a good read.


*
                 It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing. A vast expanse of nothingness was laid out before my eyes. I didn’t panic. I calmly turned my head from one side to the other. Nothing. Just impenetrable black. I closed my eyes and hung my head, massaging my temples with my hands, trying to think of something, anything, but nothing. It was useless. The black behind my eyelids wasn’t the best source of inspiration.
                With my head still hung low, I opened my eyes. There, before me, was a red line. Yet, on further inspection, it wasn’t just a line. It was a river. A river of red, foaming and frothing away from me. I was at its source. I knelt down, and with a deep breath pushed my hand into its liquid form. It tugged at me with an immense strength. It was as if it were alive. I pulled my hand out and brought it close to my face. Blood.
                I stood up. This river was literally all I could see. I was floating, stood on thin air, stood on nothing. I followed the river. I kept my head down. Its path steered straight on without change in course. My steps were slow, wary. I feared falling. I feared the nothing I was stood on would give way to an even worse nothing, one without a river to give me purpose, one where standing wasn’t possible, where I would fall and fall and never stop. Yet, I had purpose. There was no need for fear.
                My steps became more confident with every one that I took. The river never changed course. Onward it flowed and onward I followed.
                But, this all too suddenly changed. The river branched off. Three tributaries. Three options, three ways to go. Which was the right way? How was I to know? I took a hesitant step on each tributary. There was solid nothing beneath them all. I chose one at random, and carried on with my journey.
 The blood coursed along, saturating my feet as I walked. I didn’t feel a thing. The tributary didn’t lead in a straight line. It meandered from side to side, it twisted and turned. The blood slowly began to thicken. It thickened until I reached the end of the line, where the blood had solidified into a pulpy mass. There was nothing to do but turn back.
I turned on heel, but after just a few steps, a sound stopped me in my tracks. A gurgling, rising to a wail, finally to a blood curdling scream of agony. I cried out in surprise, fell to my knees and pushed my hands against my ears so hard that it hurt. It didn’t block out the sound. It persisted, it pierced, it rose in pitch. It was the scream of a baby.
After what seemed like eternity, the screaming eventually subsided into desperate whimpers. It wasn’t any more enjoyable to hear, but it was bearable. I rose to my feet, brushed myself off and continued on my return journey. Needless to say, this journey was far quicker than the last. I found myself back at the cross roads and hurried down the middle path. The river noticeably widened. There was blood either side of me now, instead of just in front and behind. Its course didn’t waver this time, its route was perfectly straight. I knew that this was the right way. The baby’s cries surrounded me still, but they were so soft that they almost soothed me.
And then, I saw something out of the corner my eye. I stopped still and looked to my right. There was a candlelight. Small, round, perfect. To my left, there was another. Candlelight formed two parallel lines either side of the river. I progressed on until I found myself at a wooden door. There was a small, rounded brass handle. I raised my hand, as if to knock, then thought better of it. I turned the handle and pushed it wide open.
*

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