Use this image as inspiration for a poem or short story.
It was so vividly real yet he was aware, in that dark corner of his psyche, it was a nightmare.
Jason’s Dad and older brother had each succumbed to their nightmares. Suicide was not going to be his rebuttal! This family curse was going end.
Jason decided to meet it head on. Each night before bed, he reminded himself that his stubbornness – once declared his biggest flaw by his ‘shrink’- would win the day.
The old mill clearly was a representation of his great-grandfather’s trade but there was never any water present. The drone of the dry wheel ‘eating up’ the Earth was deafening! Even within the dream, he held his head between clenched fists and screamed for it to STOP. Each time, as he fell into the abyss, he’d awaken hoarse and trembling.
Tonight… yes, tonight, he would not fall. He would not be afraid.
The sun made him squint as he walked the road to the mill. The big sky stretched to infinity in every direction… then he stopped. He felt an oddly familiar unease.
To his right, there was a solid mound and rooted long dead tree in the middle of the flatland. An anomalous formation for Kansas. Something told him to head for… RUN, to it!
He reached it as the earth shaking grind escalated and hung on to that tree with all his might while keeping his eyes trained on the Northern vista.
All he could think to do was pray like his mother had taught him as a child.
Then It began to rain and a river formed lifting him gently as he released his death grip.
He heard his mother’s voice just before he woke up.
‘For I will pour out water on the thirsty land
And streams on the dry ground;
I will pour out My Spirit on your offspring
And My blessing on your descendants;
The curse of his mental illness had been broken.