16 of 183

Write now Article Tools

Dream (in the storm of mind)
Today was a one in a million,the sun blazed full and bright that morning, it was warm not hot, warm so comfortable. I watched the little cherubs at play, birds sang above my head and I fed the Harpie eagle bread while he dug his talons into the wood of the bench. The wind sighed in the branches overhead and the water of the river lapped gently at the little rocks along the shore. The grass looked like it was flowing down the hillside, lemon blossoms fragrant, sweet, hypnotic. I stretched and yawned, it was time for my nap. The big cat growled softly in his chest, I patted his head, scratched under his huge chin as I lay my head down on his mane and fell deep asleep.

He pretty much patted me on my head, I expected to hear him say, sure sure honey that's nice. I'm glad he didn't, think I would have socked him. Instead I handed him his lunch, kissed him and pushed him out the door. With the dishes put away and three more hours before I had to be at my office (hell). I settled back in the bed and drifted off to sleep.
The lemon scent was back, I inhaled deeply, my friends were there and a couple more, across a lake that looked smooth as glass. There was a mist, I stood and stared at it, it moved towards me. I didn't feel I should run but, it did make me feel anxious, expectant, something, suddenly I was enveloped.
He stared at me, as if studying an object, I started to feel he could see through me and it made me feel vulnerable. I tried to remain calm, but he was making me nervous, he was like no man I had ever seen, blond hair, sea green eyes, like emeralds, tall, his skin a lite tan, the robes he wore, and that is what they were, robes, I felt I should prostrate myself, that is when he spoke. His voice wrapped it's tones around me, I could feel every word, they seemed to melt in my mind and a taste like something sweet in my mouth. "I am not the one to worship, I am a messenger, a warrior, a destruction and I came to tell you, write what you dream, put it on paper, leave a record" I stared at him, "A record of what ?" I think he smiled and as he spoke he turned and disappeared into the mist, "a record of what will be." I was to dumbfounded to say anything else, and just as I found my voice, John was waking me.
"Is this what you did all day?" I just stared at him, what did he mean all day. "Why are you home so early?" He stared at me and then told me it was now dinner time. I swung my legs off the bed and

• 1
• 2
• 3
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: Dreams ?
We want to hear your view. Write now!