dreams and visions

Unlike Our Waking Lives – Part 4

Part 1 – here
Part 2 – here
Part 3 – here

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Since childhood, I’ve possessed an uncanny ability to see events in my mind before they happen. Often times, I may be thinking about a person I haven’t seen in years, and a day or two later I might randomly bump into that person. Or out of the blue, I may recall an old movie that everybody has forgotten about for years and then see the next day that the movie is being replayed on cable TV. This ever useless feeling – that of pseudo-deja vu’ – was apparent to me as I glanced about the interior of the stationary house. Not much light shone, as the heavy curtains, sheened in burgundy, were drawn, and the front room’s only floor lamp was set low, but I made out enough to know that the whole space matched in my mind a memory that should not have been; for, unlike a friend from the past or a rerun of an old movie, I’d not been in a place like this before and should not have been familiar; still my eyes pointed through the room with invisible fingers, checking that the burgundy sofa matches the curtains! was spaced properly opposite the painted white brick fireplace with scorch marks beneath the mantle. And the matching burgundy love seat was positioned in a straight, perpendicular line from the sofa, and the oval coffee table, tastefully embellished with a tea-stained doily, atop which sat a burgundy! candle, and the group was held together predictably with an area rug of brown shades, laced with burgundy floral patterns, and oh how the burgundy highlighted rug and couches and doily with burgundy candle and the same-colored curtains made for such a lovely, matching arrangement.

The room was clean, the room was nice; I wanted to run from the room, to turn and walk out the door, perhaps to hide behind the plastic ivy and lattice. I reached behind, felt for the doorknob, careful not to bump the vase from the side table to my right that I hadn’t looked for, but knew was there.
A cascading thump, a near eruption, followed immediately by another – this I heard from outside the stationary house, and my hand, the one I was reaching with, went numb; my whole body felt numb – the sort you feel in your hands and feet when they are so cold, for nothing is so cold as fear, and fear encased me like ice. That erupting noise outside, I shouldn’t have known, but I knew. I couldn’t leave.

There was movement in the room, at the far corner, entry from the hall; I saw from the corner of my eye. Then it was gone. Glimpsing this movement – quick, erratic, low to the ground – I longed even more to be gone from the place. If I was dreaming, I vowed unpromisable things to the maker of dreams, if I could awake someplace safe, someplace of mercy, someplace anywhere, not here. My eyelids crushed, squeezed a stream of tears, rolling from my terror-frozen face to drop on the pristine, carpeted floor. I picked up the scampering sound of the moving thing, and there were other moving things further in the house, gaining in volume and speed, as though I’d interrupted a nest of oversized mice while they were busy scavenging food, and they changed their course to one of frantic elusion. A third eruption from outside, closer to the house, and I understood that this noise broadcast unlike any natural thing – an eruption of sorts, yes, but as one in reverse. If a volcano were to implode on itself, this may be the noise. Oh my God, no!

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17 replies »

  1. Very intriguing. You keep the suspense going. Now the mystery is outside the house. And, the house seems pretty normal (not what I expected) – nice! Except for the strange moving objects. Great job.

  2. Just as I was reading the words “a third eruption,” an unexpected guttural groan sounded beside me – jumped terribly, and whole body tensed. Think it was more due to what I was reading than the cat, from whom the odd sound issued. Though I never have heard her make that sound before. She must have thought it appropriate to compliment your work with a soundtrack 🙂

  3. I am waiting.. holding my breath.. (hope its not too long….)

    This is quite the experience. Because of my own background and how I related to the sign that was scrawled in fear (my sign too) I set myself up with my own history and went forward with each step you took looking over my shoulder the entire time…
    How suggestive the mind is, especially a mind with a memory that traumatized the soul. I am so sorry I took off in my own direction.

    Thanking God now that I was off course all along.This has been the strangest texperience. I am not complaining., not at all. A simple observation for a not so simple experience.

    I am hooked an enamored by your story for a dozen reason so far that have nothing to with me. Can I say though that I am grateful that for whatever reason this was happened. Without being dramatic or too cryptic you could not know this, but this is given me the courage to to try to move past a prior old disabling fear after way too many years to even say. Because I walked out past that sign in your dream. So simple all along, yet not possiblel It is both symbolic and literal for me.

    Thank you. I hope this did not come across as totally selfish and self-serb=ving on your blog and over your stunning story. Because above all else ai am in for the finale.

    Be Encouraged. Be Blessed my friend. I am most grateful.Thank you for your talant and thank you for your tolerant heart~ BB

    ps sorry for the epic size comment.

      • Feeling it?

        Its been awkward because it is yours story and having such a personal effect is always what an author is looking for .You have done that my friend to be sure.

        I am a hungry reader of many genres and will say that despite having many authors, and their stories have effected me deeply I think of Mitch Albom and his Tuesday’s with Morey” off hand, I was that character seeing my professor every Tuesday (Friday) afternoons. So I get this part of stepping into a store line and escaping What you have wrote took me on a flash back journey to something that even I have not finished writing about. Its was just a strange play of the stars in the cosmos I suppose pshrugging shoulders…]
        but how? I don’t know.

        I am an avid fan now and will move past this personal connection to your dream and enjoy your blog and what you have to share. Thanks so much again for your patience an tolerance, you are a kind man ~ BB

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