Am I asleep, or am I dreaming? This question whirled through her mind.
Sweet Dreams
“Am I asleep, or am I dreaming? ” This question whirled through her mind as she listened to the TV.
Barb sat straight up in bed having almost fallen asleep.
“Did that idiot just say that private property causes Global Warming?!”
Barb glanced at her husband, Dennis, to see he had dosed off with the TV on again. Now she was wide awake and angry ‘to boot’. Bill Gates was framed on the screen, sickly grinning, and proposed once more that no one should own property or cars.
Barbara was so agitated she hit Dennis square in the face with her pillow. He flailed and sat up beside her.
“What the heck, Barbara?! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What’s wrong?”
“You fell asleep again with that Communist News Network on. Why in the HELL do you watch that garbage!”
“It’s funny and boringly predictable at the same time. You know I can’t just fall asleep like you do.”
“If you insist on watching that station, then you better make darn sure I’m asleep from now on before you tune in. It’s disturbing and alarming to me. And if you don’t understand how disturbing it is, I’ll be happy to hit you with my pillow when it’s left on in the future!”
Dennis, now awake, changed the channel to Investigation Discovery. The show playing was about a woman gradually poisoning her husband to death.
“That’s more like it! Goodnight Dennis. Sweet dreams.”
It’s your choice. Choose one or both to take you to a different world.
There is no restriction on format of the piece. There is no last date either, unless you wish to be featured in the Weekly Wrap.
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Colorblind
It felt like a bolt of lightning!
Griffin sat straight up in bed with a shiver.
Had he always dreamt in color?
“What difference does that make you stupid fool. It was just a random dream.”
It was amazingly vivid. But spattered paintbrushes in a rainbow of colors are all I can recall of it. It must have been the result of that spicy midnight snack. Lesson learned.
It was only a few minutes before his alarm would go off, so Griffin Prime jumped out of bed and readied himself for work. His morning energy felt electric. He had a good feeling about a breakthrough happening today.
While the ‘gifted’ young man relaxed in the Think Tank lounge, the dream haunted him. His ability to immediately dismiss mumbo jumbo seemed unusually ‘lazy’. An unfamiliar angst started to interfere with his logical brilliant mind.
I know dreams are just electrical impulses in my brain, that there’s no such thing as God, and everything that cannot be easily explained through my own examination can be immediately filed in my ‘coincidence bin’. There’s no meaning in dreams, and colors are for kids, so get a grip and get to work, Griffin!
And work he did. By lunch Griffin had labeled a dozen of his colleagues’ theories RIDICULOUS, UTTERLY UNPROVEABLE, and GIVE ME A BREAK! Satisfied with himself beyond his usual hubris (a feat usually attainable only by fictional Gods), he called it a day and decided to walk home. Walking and observing the ‘common’ man offered him such comic relief.
He chuckled at garbagemen, rolled his eyes at young mothers with crying children, and mocked a group of homeless people arguing over a bottle of wine. As he passed the church on the corner, he noticed a line of mourners filing to their cars for a funeral procession. A man who seemed to be the “ringleader” of those ignorant folks, suddenly cut him off, looked into his eyes and whispered, “Appreciate the colors, brother. God be with you.” Griffin’s impulse to spit in his face was interrupted by a sudden excruciating electric shock in his head that knocked him to the ground.
He next awakened in a hospital bed with bandages around his skull and alarm bells going off. He watched nurses rush to him from a vantage point of floating above the bed. Around him bright beautiful colors began to obscure that scene and a soft reassuring voice whispered, “Appreciate the colors. I am with you.”
It would be weeks before he’d awaken again in that same hospital bed and to his amazement, he could actually ‘feel’ every color in the room! It was then that he realized colors had never held any meaning to him. He had dismissed them as he had everything that hadn’t come from his own logical perception.
The first thing Griffin would do upon leaving the hospital after a life-threatening brain aneurism, coma, and near-death experience, would be to dispose of his ‘coincidence bin’. So much more interested him now and he wanted, for the first time, to dream, and live, in full color. Evaluating things, he couldn’t explain, no longer would be dealt with in black and white.
While dreaming, I decided to remember the dream. My power was profound and amazing! Not the subtle movement of a spoon on a table, oh no. I was able to lift a futon mattress and shake it with my mind alone! Yup, I actually saw the electricity emanate from my finger tip. The part that I am most proud of was that my power was used only for good. Actually, I was stripping wallpaper from my old bedroom walls at a distance. The overwhelming feeling throughout the dream was , as absolutely incredible the power was, I kept thinking how lazy I would become. By the end, I was determined to give up my super power in order to enjoy menial tasks by my own hand.
What ever the deep meaning, I am proud of my inner self for her decision. 🙂
My blogging experience has been so exciting. Initially, I started to compile projects for a book about keeping kids creative. Kids are my passion and their beginning experiences set the tone for their entire lives.
My second mission was to leave a book of thoughts specifically for my granddaughter to treasure later in life. I’m not disciplined enough to keep a journal, and I have to admit, I enjoy making friends and getting feedback too. Being a day care provider can be awfully isolating.
Then I found the Jingle Poetry community, actually they found me. Jingle is an amazingly diligent talent scout and I am still numb from her choice of MY work. I have not had one unkind comment from any member of the group. Their motto of encouragement certainly fits. Not only do the poet’s comment frequently but with long, intuitive messages as well.
I realized once the encouragement began that I, quite possibly, could be a serious and accomplished writer beyond my initial intentions. This pleased me immensely 🙂 A new goal for a person who has given up so much time and creativity on behalf of kids could finally realize her own dream!
In my “About Me” statement, I reveal my admiration of Dr. Seuss. Many of the sincere comments from other writers on my poetry, were increasingly containing the word cute.
It is a dark confession of mine that “cute” held a condescending tone to my newborn professional approach and was not completely well received. Intellectually, I never thought it meant to be unkind but my heart deflated a bit at its frequent use.
What was Dr. Seuss but silly and amusing AND cute?
Heck, why that word pushed my” buttons ” will remain a mystery from now on.
A soft whisper of a purr not unlike the hum of a ceiling fan.
One gentle touch
A hand brushes my ear, soft and supple as a tongue’s underside.
She smelled warm
Just like sunshine does when it is absorbed into a line-dried towel.
Whisper’s eyes sparkled
Dark and deep, shady pools sprinkled with the diamonds called life.
Sharing a pillow
The raccoon orphan and I slept, blanketed in safety, love and trust.
Together
Children of the same Mother.
About 25 years ago, a childhood dream of mine came true. My husband brought a lost baby raccoon home from work. She had been stranded in an entrance to a dorm. Whisper and I bonded immediately. We slept together and I fed her from a baby bottle. She was finally placed with other orphaned youngsters to be returned to the wild. I will never forget her…( Rabies was not common here, at that time. Our vet approved of the temporary arraignment. ) Not a wise situation for today.
Since so many other online writers have blogs dedicated to their writings, I’ve decided to jump onto the bandwagon. All posts published here will be either fiction or poetry, some new, and some previously published on various places on the Internet. Some of my works are conventional, and some are quirky. All fiction posted here, except for fan fiction, will include the letters "rose" somewhere, as a tribute to my Baba.
Sillyfrog's Blog 