SIP - The Mirror of Dreams

  • Leader
    February 10, 2017 8:27 AM EST
    SIP = Story in Progress

    • Even though they may not remember them, everyone dreams several times a night. In fact, during a typical lifetime, we spend about six years dreaming.
    • People don't only dream in black and white, as was once believed.

    When we enter REM sleep, we dream, but does anyone really know what happens when we dream? What if, in the realm of possibilities, we consider that the dreams we are seeing are actually things occurring in other dimensions. What if, under special circumstances, we can travel to those dimensions?

    Guess what? These are special circumstances...

    Mirrors. We all have them (well those of us that aren't vampires). It's been said that if you stare into a mirror long enough you can see the spirit world. Perhaps, if you look into a mirror right before you sleep, you can be transported to another realm where dreams are more than just a movie playing in your sleep.

    The mirrors link us all to this world and the next.
  • Leader
    February 10, 2017 8:27 AM EST

    Laura slammed the door as she got home. It had been a nightmare at work today, just the worst day ever. She hated being a cashier at Happy D's, a local fast food restaurant. She always came home smelling like hamburgers and french fries. That wasn't what had made this day so bad though.

    Everything had been going OK until about lunch time when Mark Stephens walked in. Laura has had a crush on Mark since 8th grade. He has sky blue eyes, dark brown hair and a deep voice that made her melt. Here he was, coming up to her register..with Bethany Margoni. Bethany, captain of the cheerleader squad at their high school. Perfect Bethany with not a hair out of place, no pimples to mar her face, and of course perfect skin. She didn't have an ounce of fat on her and was your All-American girl next door.

    Exactly opposite of Laura. God how she wished she could be like Bethany. No psoriasis, no thick coke bottle glasses, no frizzed out hair and no 50 extra pounds. She stomped up to her room, closed the door and got the antique hand mirror off the dresser and flopped onto her bed. With this mirror, she imagined how she could look, as this was her magic mirror. Well in her imagination it was anyway. There is no real magic for her, not for plane Jane's like Laura Belkiner.

    The was an old one from centuries ago, an heirloom from her great-great-grandmother. It showed parts that were black, worn, like some old mirrors do. She fell asleep holding it in her lap..

    It's pitch black. She reaches in front of her and finds nothing. She feels vulnerable as she can't tell if there is anyone or anything in the darkness. Gingerly, she moves forward. She stops to listen. With nothing for her eyes to see, her sense of hearing is just a bit amplified. She thinks she hears a scratching coming from in front of her, to the right. Perhaps it's a mouse. That's what she hopes anyway.

    She stretches out her arms. First in front, then to each side and then behind her to check and make sure nothing is there. Still she finds nothing in any direction so she continues forward just a bit. The scratching stops while she's moving. She listens intently for the scratching to start again. Hoping to figure out where it's coming from and what the source could be. Hoping that the source is just a mouse.

    A whisper. She hears a whisper but can't tell what it's saying nor whether it's male or female. She decides to move toward the sound, very slowly, so she can still hear the whispers and now the faint scratching. She knows she's not alone in this room or whatever this place is.
  • Leader
    February 10, 2017 8:28 AM EST

    beep... beep... beep...

    Hunter woke to the steady beeping of the machines that kept him alive. He always hoped he would awaken and find the last four months had been a dream, that he would walk, dress himself and feed himself again. He was always disappointed though to find that he was still a prisoner of his broken body.

    The wreck that had mangled him was the cause of a drunk driver. The man behind the wheel? His best friend who walked away without a scratch. Walked away and out of his life, too guilt stricken to see him.

    Hunter could hear the sounds from the busy street. People chattering back and forth, cell phones ringing, children laughing. Birds sang in the tree outside his window, teasing him as they were just out of sight from his bed. God how he wished he could get up and at least go to the window! He wished he could be free of this body!

    His parents had set him up in the guest room as it was on the first floor of the house. It was comfortable but not his taste. Light pink floral wallpaper adorned the walls; lace curtains hung in the windows that had heavy salmon colored drapes. The room had antique furniture, save for his mechanized hospital bed.

    An old antique mirror was the only thing he liked. It hung on the wall to the right of his bed and he could see a little more of the outside world due to the angle of it. He stared into the mirror, thinking of what his life should be.

    Shapes started to form in the mirror as he became transfixed by it and he drifted off to sleep..

    He could feel the grass beneath him as he woke, staring up at a clear blue sky with puffy clouds decorating his view. He rubbed his eyes without thinking. Sitting up, he looked around him. He sat in the midst of a beautiful meadow, flowers embedded in the grass as far as the eye could see. Pink, yellow, blue and even purple flowers - nature’s patchwork quilt. As he came to his senses more, he realized he could move his hands, feet, and was able to stand. Excitement rushed through him as he shot up from the ground. Jumping, dancing, spinning - Hunter just relished being able to move again. In the distance, he saw a beautiful white horse and headed in that direction - singing along the way.

    Just before he got to the horse, he slowed and quieted, so as not to scare it away. However, the horse seemed unflappable and continued to munch on an apple. Apples were all around it in fact. Beautiful, full, red apples! He grabbed one, took a crunchy bite and savored the sweet taste. Slowly, he moved up to the horse and gently stroked it’s neck. As the horse turned to look at him, he noticed a long, golden horn in the midst of it’s head. A unicorn? He was looking at a unicorn!

    “I wonder if he’ll let me ride him,” he pondered.

    Picking up an especially nice apple, he offered it to the unicorn. It took it without hesitation, which surprised him a bit.

    “Can I ride you,” he asked, not expecting an answer.

    The unicorn seemed to nod its head so he gingerly got up on its back. They started out slow at first and then picked up pace. Hunter held onto the unicorn’s mane as they raced through the field. The wind in his hair, his shirt flapping in the breeze, smells from the meadow and forest, the feel of this galloping steed - all of this Hunter absorbed and was at peace. He was free! Free to ride with the wind in his face, on the back of this majestic unicorn.

    Never again to be confined to that bed, Hunter was at peace in his meadow of dreams and the machines ceased their sound.

    Though distant shores have taken me, forever shall I roam,
    I shan't forget my family and what I called my home.
    ~Donna A. Bryant
  • Member
    November 29, 2022 10:51 PM EST
    I enjoyed both excerpts on Laura and Hunter. Without detailing what happened with each, I enjoyed reading the build up to the next place both Laura and Hunter got too.

    Your poetry in the end is really nice too!
  • Leader
    December 16, 2022 1:03 PM EST
    Thank you!