The only thing Sundays are good for is laying in bed, reading books and drinking tea.
The only thing Sundays are good for is laying in bed, reading books and drinking tea.
She was drifting on a sea of dreams to lands unknown.
Bedgasm: a feeling of euphoria experienced when climbing into bed at the end of a long day.
Finally, I could go to bed! Getting under the duvet and feeling the soft fleece bedding snuggling me was like receiving a hug off a giant teddy bear. I sighed deeply and rested my head against the pillow, feeling totally content.
I felt the waves of sleep and I relaxed into them. For the first time in months, I knew sleep would come quickly and it would be restful. I let everything go, even though the excitement over my first novel being published was hard to let go of!
The road had been long and today, launch day! had been even longer, but now it was time to let everything go. Tomorrow was going to be a fresh start and I needed to be ready to face it. That wasn’t going to be too hard though.
The warmth of the bed was helping to bring sleep faster and I was on that threshold of slipping in. Still though, I clung to the happiness of being able to completely relax. It was a long time since I last felt like this.
I wasn’t in the mood for today. Ignoring the alarm clock, I pulled the duvet over my head and snuggled back down. Today could go stuff it’s self, tomorrow was going to far better.
Harley didn’t feel like getting up this morning but she had done so anyway. Dragging herself out of her cosy warm bed, she headed straight for the bathroom, her stomach growling like an angry bear. Sitting down on the loo, she wondered how many times she had got up in the night to come into here driven by an IBS flare up as punishment of eating too much ice cream. She counted to four before the ringing of the house phone interrupted.
I’m not going to get it. It’s only going to be a cold caller, she thought.
Trying to ignore it, Harley yawed and wondered if she could go back to bed even though it was three minutes past eleven am.
A little dog’s yowling broke though her thoughts and with a growl, she sorted herself out and went to answer the phone.
‘Is that the bus station? I’ve left my library books on the seventeen bus,’ an elderly man’s voice spoke out.
Harley rolled her eyes before answering, ‘I’m sorry but it’s not. You have the wrong number.’
‘There were five books,’ the man continued, ‘The Queen’s Slave, Goldfish Keeping For All, Weave Looming And You, -‘
‘I’m sorry but-‘ Harley tried to cut in but the man carried on speaking over her.
‘London Werewolves and Whenever The Rain Falls Think Of Me,’ the man concluded.
‘They were in a bag for life. You know, the yellow ones with orange elephants on?’
‘This isn’t the bus station!’ Harley shouted, ‘you have the wrong number!’
‘Oh. I’m sorry….Do you know the right number?’ the man asked.
‘No. I don’t,’ Harley snapped and hung up.
Placing the phone down, she wondered what was going on with the crossed over numbers. A cold wet nose and a small licking tongue touched her bare toes and Harley jumped with a cry. She looked down and saw the tiny Yorkshire terrier give a startled yip and jumped back too.
‘Sorry, Yogi,’ Harley spoke and scooped the dog up, ‘just some people…’
Carrying the Yorkie upstairs, Harley set him down on her single bed then went to her wardrobe. Just as she had selected her clothes for the day; old blue jeans, black long sleeved top with a painted wolf angel on it, her Five Finger Death Punch hoodie and boot slippers, the phone rang again. Tutting, she left it to ring until Yogi pulled his head up and let out a mournful yowl.
Racing downstairs, Harley snatched the phone up again.
‘Is that the bus station? I’ve lost my library books,’ the same man’s voice from before came though the phone.
‘You have the wrong number again,’ Harley said.
‘I’m sorry but I really can’t help you. Try ringing a different number,’ she added then hung up.
Heading up to her room, she finished off getting dressed then picked up Yogi again. The tiny dog had been making a nest in her bedding. Going downstairs, Harley set him down on his own bed and went into the kitchen. There was a large puddle of water on the floor with a white scum on top of it.
‘Yogi! Did you do this?’ Harley called, ‘bad dog!’
Grabbing a tea towel, she began to mop the floor. Then though she noticed the far spread of the puddle because it filled the square space between the fridge-freezer, dishwasher, sink of the narrow kitchen. Also it was very close to Yogi’s bowls.
Puzzling and no longer thinking the dog had done this, Harley inspected the fridge-freezer, sink and dishwasher. Everything seemed okay. She went upstairs and got an old towel from the cupboard. Setting it on the floor, she saw drips coming out of the corner of the dishwasher.
‘Great,’ she mumbled then added, ‘I’m sorry Yogi. It wasn’t you!’
Getting up, she went to find the dog but the phone rang. Throwing her hands up, Harley went to answer it.
‘Hello dear. My husband his left some books on the bus. I was wondering if you could help us?’ an elderly woman’s voice asked.
Harley sighed deeply and brushed her hair back, ‘I’m sorry,’ she said trying to stay calm, ‘but this isn’t the bus station. You have the wrong number. This is a private house.’
‘Ah, I’m terribly sorry about that. Goodbye,’ the old woman said.
The phone clicked and Harley hung it up again. Going into the living room, she give some reassurance to Yogi then went into the kitchen and made some toast with jam on. Sitting down, she watched some TV, channel flicking between a house D.I.Y show and a famous courtroom drama. Though she had to get up a couple of times to use the bathroom.
Taking her breakfast things into the kitchen, Harley noticed that the dishwasher was leaking badly. The towel she had set down had a large half circle ring across it. Opening the door and breaking off the washing cycle, she looked inside and move a few plates and pans around. Dirty water fell out of the corner like a small waterfall.
Closing the door again, she waited as the dishwasher started again. However, water still dripped from the corner.
‘Dad will have to fix that,’ Harley spoke.
Leaving it and going to her computer, she pressed the on button and also turned the monitor on. Whilst she waited, she looked at a calendar on her desk. Under today, she had written; write chapter 23. working at shop- 5-11pm.
Harley’s face fell, she had forgotten she was working. She doubled checked on the calendar in her phone and confirmed it. Sighing, she noticed the computer was done loading and clicked open the draft of her novel. She had barely started reading the last few pages when the phone rang.
‘I’m not answer it!’ she called.
Yogi began howling in the living room.
‘I mean it,’ she growled.
Letting the phone ring off and Yogi’s long yowling faded away, Harley got back to her novel. She reached the last page with writing on it and tapped down to the blank one underneath. Looking at the page, she tried hard to think.
The phone rang.
‘Seriously!’ she cried.
Harley got up and answered the phone.
‘Is that the bus station? My parents have lost some books,’a young man’s voice asked.
‘No. It’s not and I don’t know why they keep ringing my phone number,’ Harley moaned.
‘I’m sorry. There must be a problem with the line. It’s fine. I’ll go down to the bus station and sorted it. Thanks, bye.’
Harley set the phone down and rubbed her eyes.
‘That’s it! I’m going back to bed!’ Harley declared.
The streetlamps’ orange glow reflected off the slowly falling snow, making the flakes shine like fairy lights. Then a gentle wind twisted the flakes away and they fell to the all ready white carpeted ground.
From her bedroom window, Charity watched and wished she could go out to play. However, the clock stated it was two am, well passed her bedtime. She sighed and watched the glass mist up under her nose. She pressed a finger to the mist patch, going to draw a C for her name when an idea came into her head.
Grabbing her desk chair, she put it against the window sill and climbed on top of it. With a lot of effort, she opened the top window. A blow of freezing air drifted into the room and around her. Ignoring it, she stretched her small hand out of the window.
A snowflake landed in her palm. She giggled at the coldness and watched it melting. Reaching out as far as she could, Charity felt more snow landing against her skin. She twirled her hand in it, feeling the softness of the flakes then the wetness as they melted.
Drawing back a frozen hand, Charity watched the snow falling thicker and faster. The streetlamps were the only lights on in the street, but they now could not penetrate through the white flurry. Darkness crept back in, making the snowflakes lose their magic and turn eerie looking.
The wind picked up, gusting the snow around and through Charity’s window. Gasping, she reached up to close it, but felt the wind tugging the latch away from her. Charity yanked the window close, but lost her balance on the chair at the same time and tumbled to the floor.
Landing hard, Charity tried not to cry out. She bite back tears and caught her breath. Slowly getting up, she rightened the chair and peered out of the window again. Snow was hitting her window hard and she could no longer see passed it. The winter storm that the news had warned of earlier and her parents had tutted over, had finally arrived.
Wiping her face, she put the chair back under the desk. Then going to the window again, she half drew the curtains. A few minutes ago, she had hardly heard anything, but now Charity could hear the wind howling and the snow hitting everything. Shivering, she went back to bed and hugged her favourite bear tightly.
(Prompt from; https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shine/)
He hurried along the unlit underground passageway trying to be as quiet as possible. However, his sandals were slapping too loudly on the worn flagstones and the ends of his dark brown robe were making swishing noises around his legs. He wanted to stop and catch his breath, but he was late for midnight prayers.
He felt a welcome sense of relief as he saw the glowing outline of the door. He pressed on, battling the tightness in his chest and aching pain in his thigh. Keeping his eyes fixed on the light ahead, he wondered how many steps further it was.
Then his thoughts changed and out of no where, he saw an image of her by the flicking candlelight. The whiteness of her skin as the dress slipped off her, that desire in her bright blue eyes. The gold curls of her hair, the red rose bud lips and her voice whispering softly for him to come to her.
His toes suddenly hit the stone steps. He stumbled and fell spread eagle. Feeling pain his head, hands and knees he lay there for a few moments collecting himself. Then getting up slowly, he went up the stairs and through the door.
The corridor was well lit with flicking white candles. Male voices filled the air their words of hymn coming together to seem like one sound. The air was heavy with wax and incense.
He shuffled through an open archway and to the church which was filled with monks. Slotting in with the few at the back, he tried to looked like he had been there all along. Hiding his hands in his large sleeves and joining quietly in with the prayer, he avoided the glances of the men around him.
When it was over, he was the first to slip away. Walking quickly, he went to his cell and knelt down by the side of his bed. His thoughts tumbled and twisted, ideas coming to him then going. he tried hard to think about what he should do but nothing seemed right.
He looked up at the small window in the wall and the single candle on the sill. Then at his desk where another candle sat ready to be lit and the Bible beside it.
‘It is not wrong to love,’ he whispered, ‘you teach us we should love all…but this is stronger then love.’
He looked down at his hands for the first time and saw they were cut and bloody. He put them into his sleeves again and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
‘I do not know what to do. I do not believe she is a devil of any kind…And was it not I that started this…?’ he stopped and let his voice fade.
He shut his eyes and cleared his mind, after a few minutes he spoke again, ‘perhaps it’s best I just leave. I am no longer a pure vessel for carrying your messages. And I have always wondered if my path was somewhere else.’
Getting up, he looked around his cell and realising he had nothing to take with him, headed to the door. He opened it and listened to the silence. Stepping out, he took his sandals off and carrying them walked through the empty corridors and to the passageway once more.
(Please be aware this story contains adult sexual content.)
I sighed deeply and tried to focus my eyes on the ceiling as I felt myself drifting off. Dan had wrapped us both in quilt and I was warm, comfy and satisfied. Rolling over, I snuggled against him for the second time and kissed his nose.
‘We have to go,’ I whispered.
‘Five more minutes,’ he replied, sleepy.
‘We can’t. The kids are waiting for pizza and we need to put those boxes in the car.’
Dan mumbled something I didn’t hear and tried to hold me in a hug. I wiggled away, pulled off the quilt and got up. I felt his arms snaking out to draw me back again, but I was out of reach.
I dressed quickly, feeling the chilly air against my skin. I put on my shoes and thought about leaning over to kiss him again. A part of me desperately wanted to get back into the bed. I wanted to feel his arms protecting me and the soft brush of his lips on my hair. I wanted to forget everything again and let it be just me and him forever.
But we couldn’t hide from our responsibilities and the world.
‘Come on,’ I said loudly and tugged the quilt off him.
He sprawled out then sit up quickly as the cold blew over his skin, ‘damn that boiler.’
‘Check it. I’m going to the loo.’
I hurried from the room and into the bathroom next door. Clicking on the light, I sat on the loo and my eyes wondered. There was a large spider in the bathtub. Tutting, I finished, washed my hands then used the empty soap dish to save the spider. Setting it free on the window ledge, I left the bathroom and went back into the attic. It felt colder then before and darker too.
I gathered the books I had dropped earlier into a new plastic box with some other ones and closed the lid. Pushing it towards the doorway and the pile of other boxes we were taking with us, I heard Dan coming up the stairs.
‘It’s gone off again. I’ll have to fix it tomorrow,’ he said.
I nodded, ‘Just these boxes and the ones by the front door.’
Dan bend down and picked the first one up. He walked to the door and began going downstairs. I went for the box next to it, but my phone rang, the sound breaking through the quietness that had settled into the house. I answered it quickly, seeing it was Darla, ‘hi, sweetie.’
‘Where are you?’ she demanded.
‘Still at gran’s-‘
‘I know. I’m sorry. But we are leaving now. What pizza do you all want?’ I asked.
‘Four cheese and pepperoni. You are going to Costco, right?’
‘Yes. Of course,’ I answered, suddenly realising that I hadn’t given picking a pizza place a thought.
‘Good. Don’t get the chicken one. I don’t like it.’
‘I know. I’ll text you when we are on our way home so you can warm the plates and set the table. Is Mrs. J still okay?’ I questioned.
‘She wants to speak to you.’
I began pacing the attic in small circles. There was the muffled sound of the phone switching hands then Mrs. Jamesson’s old cracked voice, ‘Maya? Do you know what time it is?’
‘I’m so sorry, Maggie. I wanted to get the attic emptied and we’ve just not been able to. And I’ve just promised the kids pizza now. We won’t be longer then a hour.’
‘And hour?’ she hissed the down the phone, ‘That wasn’t what I agreed too!’
‘I know and I’m sorry…but I’ll make it up to you.’
She mumbled something down the phone and I heard Freddie crying in the background.
‘He’s hungry!’ Darla shouted.
‘We’ll try to be home faster. See you soon,’ I hung up and putting my phone away, grabbed a box.
Soon, the black Land Rover was packed with boxes and we were driving to Costco. I warmed my hands on the air coming through the vent and listened to the news on the radio. My thoughts were heavy with the weight of the tasks still ahead of me.
‘We’ll have to take the kids tomorrow,’ I spoke out.
Dan stopped at a red light and glanced over at me.
‘I know it’ll be harder to sort stuff out, but I can’t ask Mrs Jamesson, I’m in her bad books now,’ I added.
‘We can get Dee and Ty to finish off the attic-‘
‘No. we need to do that. There’s fragile stuff up there and they wouldn’t know what to keep, throw or donate. Plus, I’ve not found the china set or the plates or the jewelry yet.’
The lights changed and Dan drove off again. We turned into the large car park and found a spot straight away.
‘Do we need anything else?’ Dan asked.
‘No. Just food for the starving wolves,’ I laughed.
Dan smirked at the joke and we hurried into the brightly light warehouse. The queue for food was long and I wished we’d gotten here sooner. We ordered then had to wait longer. I sent a text to Darla informing her of the delay then as soon as we got the pizzas another text that we were on the way home.
Dan took the short cut back whilst I balanced the hot pizza boxes on my knees. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, the front door was thrown open and Darla rushed out carrying Freddie.
‘Look, it’s mummy and daddy!’ she said loudly.
‘Hello, darlings,’ I said.
Dan came around and took the pizzas from me so I could take and hug Freddie. The four year old weighted a ton in my tried arms. I put him on my hip and closed the car door. We walked to the house together, where Mrs Jamesson was stood in the doorway barring it like an angry pub bouncer.
‘We are so sorry, Maggie,’ Dan broke out, ‘would you like to join us for pizza?’
‘No, I would not,’ she snapped, ‘you owe me, Maya,’ she added turning to me.
Then she stepped from the doorway, barging past us and out onto the street. I sighed deeply then called after her, ‘Thanks!’
‘You kids have fun?’ Dan asked.
‘I guess,’ Darla mumbled.
I walked inside and headed into the kitchen. I placed Freddie down in his high chair before taking and drying the warm plates from the sink. Dan put the pizza on the table, left and shouted Ty from the hallway. I turned and set the plates down.
Darla had opened both boxes and she quickly took a plate and began grabbing slices.
‘Sorry about the wait. It was really busy,’ I said.
‘I know I got your text.’
‘Did you get pepperoni?’ Ty called from the doorway.
‘Yes and four cheese,’ I answered.
He grabbed a plate and some pizza then made to leave.
‘Come back, young man! Sit down!’
‘But mum!’ he groaned.
‘Come on, Ty. We’ve not seen you all day,’ Dan put in.
‘But I got a game running!’
‘It can wait. Sit,’ I said firmly.
With more groaning my thirteen year old, sat down and began eating with us.
‘Tell me about your day,’ I called out as I cut up some pizza for Freddie.
Darla and Ty relayed their day around mouthfuls of pizza. Once they were done, Dan and I talked about ours and then I broke the bad news to them.
‘I’m afraid tomorrow you’ll all have to come with us.’
Darla and Ty groaned loudly and both said why at the same time.
‘Because there’s no way I’m asking Mrs J again and there’s no one else,’ I explained.
‘I could do it!’ Darla spoke out.
‘We’ve been over this,’ Dan answered calmly.
‘I know…but please. It’ll only be a few hours, won’t it?’
‘Please let her do it!’ Ty jumped in suddenly, ‘I’ll be good and I’ll help look after Freddie.’
I looked at Dan then the kids, weighing everything up, but there was still no way I was going to leave my fifteen year old daughter in charge of her younger brothers.
‘Darla. I know you’ll make a good babysitter and I believe in you, but you’re still a little to young to watch the boys all day. It’d also be unfair on you. If there was another way we’d do it. But there’s not and to be honest your dad and I could use a hand in trying to finish sorting things out, ‘ I explained.
Silence fell for a moment then Darla nodded her head and Ty growled something, but perhaps it wasn’t even words. We finished tea then got the boxes from the car and put them in the dining room, which we were using for storage. The rest of the evening was spent relaxing and putting the kids to bed.
Just before Dan and I went up at a little past ten, I went into the dining room and looked for that last box of books. Something had been bugging me about it, but I wasn’t sure what. For some reason, those leather bound volumes had stuck in my head and I knew they were not just normal books.
I found them and pulled them out from the box. Opening the first I looked at the handwriting across the page.
‘What is it?’ Dan said from the doorway.
‘I thought I recognised these…They’re my grandma’s journals.’
‘Oh…anything interesting in them?’
‘I don’t know.’
I flipped through the pages, but all I could see was flash of words in different colored inks. I closed the book and left it with the others. I was too tried to read it now.
‘Well, you know where they are now,’ Dan responded, waving a hand at the box.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
Going to him, I kissed him and wrapped my arms around him. He returned the kiss and hugged me.
‘You were amazing today,’ he muttered in my ear.
‘Shame the kids will be there tomorrow…is there no chance…?’
‘I’m afraid not…Unless, we’re going to trust Darla?’ I suggested.
‘We can’t,’ Dan breathed.
‘That’s that then,’ I spoke.
I held his hands and turned off the lights.
To Be Continued…
(Please be aware this story contains adult sexual content.)
I wasn’t even thinking when I came across Grandma’s journals. I had just opened another dusty cardboard box of old books and was moving it to the side when the bottom give out. Leather bound volumes scattered across the attic floor and I swore loudly.
‘Maya? Are you okay?’ my husband called over.
‘Fine,’ I answered then sighed as I knelt to stack the books together.
‘Let’s get out of here. We’ve done enough.’
‘I really want to finish this, Dan,’ I replied.
I looked up at him as he felt silent. My knight in shining armour was pressing his lips together in a frown and looking stern at the back of the attic. There still seemed so much to sort out. He ran his hands through his thick black hair, tugging out strands, which he always did when he was stressed.
I left the books and went to him. I wrapped my arms around his growing pot belly stomach and pressed my head into his back. He was tall and I only came up to his chest, even though I wasn’t that short. He patted my hands then turned to pull me into a tight hug. I breathed deep his familiar smell of aftershave and sweat which was mingled with the wood and dust of the attic.
‘I get it,’ he muttered into my ear, ‘but there’s enough time. We’ve been at this all day and I want to go home and see the kids.’
‘Okay,’ I breathed.
I looked up at him and he rose my chin with one finger. Our lips meet and for a few moments I lost myself in his embrace. It was amazing that after all the years, he still had this power over me with one simple soft kiss. I felt him touching my short blonde hair and my cheek. His hand dropped further, coming to squeeze my left breast. I gasped into his mouth and he took the opening to dip his tongue passed my lips.
For a few moments more we were lost in the touch and taste of each other. The attic and the present seemed a distance separate thing. Right now there was just the two of us; roaming hands and fingers, rolling wet tongues and eager kisses. Our bodies pressed so tightly together and tingling with the anticipation of more excitement to come.
The ringing of a phone slowed then stopped the kisses. I realised it was mine and dug it out of my pocket whilst Dan was still holding on to me. His hands were squashing my bum and I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh.
‘It’s Darla,’ I spoke and answered the call, ‘hi, sweetie.’
‘Hi, mum. When are you coming home?’ our oldest child asked.
‘Now actually. We were just getting ready to leave.’
‘Cool. Can we have pizza for dinner? I did all my homework and Freddie hasn’t cried once today,’ Darla said.
Dan kissed my cheek then dropped his head to my shoulder, where he started planting soft kissing up and down my neck.
I tried not to giggle or moan and just to concentrate on being a mother, ‘and Ty?’
‘He’s been okay….Mrs J had a bit of a argument with him. He wanted to go and play at a friends’ house and he came back late. But it’s sorted now….So, pizza?’
‘Okay. We’ll pick it up on the way home. Tell Mrs J, we’ll be back soon.’
‘Thanks, see you!’ Darla rushed and I heard her shouting, ‘we’re getting pizza!’ before she hung up.
I ended the call too and glanced at my messages, but I hadn’t missed anything. I felt Dan lick my neck, then trail his way up. He kissed my cheek, then our lips meet in a soft embrace. I broke off the kiss and stepped out of the hug, before he could distracted me again. I slipped my phone away then put my hands on his lower arms.
‘The kids want pizza. I said we’d go and pick it up.’
‘Sounds good to me….First though…’ Dan murmured.
He draw me back in and tried to kiss me again.
‘It was you that wanted to go home to the kids!’ I playfully called out.
‘I know…but then I saw you with dust and spiderwebs in your hair and you looked so sexy and I just have this urge-‘
‘This urge,’ he growled softly as he grabbed my bum and squeezed it roughly whilst pulling me hard against him.
His manhood hit me right in the crotch of my jeans and I let out a squeal of delight and passion. I laughed and pressed my face to his, we kissed. In a low voice into his ear I said, ‘I guess the kids can wait a few more minutes.’
I licked my lips and dropped my hand between his legs.
‘We can’t have you going home like this, can we?’ I whispered.
‘No,’ he purred back.
I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders and stood on my tip toes. We kissed deeply whilst I kept my other hand rubbing his jeans. He broke the kiss and moaned into my ear.
‘Bedroom?’ I breathed.
I slipped out of his hold, took his hand and led him from the attic. We went into what had been the guest bedroom and now the only room in the house to have a bed in it. The thin curtains were already drawn over the window, not that any light was actually coming in as it was pitch black outside. I turned on the lamp and we stood next to the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms and kissing.
Dan eased me down onto the bed and whilst my head sank into the old feather pillow, his warm hands pulled up my t-shirt. His nimble fingers slipped quickly across my cotton bra then down inside it. I gasped and moaned against his mouth whilst my body wiggled at his touch. He dropped his head to my chest, his fingers peeling down the bra cups. I felt his lips, his tongue and I fell into an ecstasy.
He took off my jeans and I kicked off my pumps. He kissed down my stomach and I put my hands on his head and guided him further down. I turned my head and moaned loudly into to the pillow. I felt his fingers hooking the edges of my underwear and gently removing them. He spread my legs, running his hands up and down them slowly. I moved my head back into time to see him undoing his jeans and tugging them down.
I smiled and reached for him as he came to lay on top of me. We kissed tenderly and I felt him sliding inside me. Gasping and breathing deeply, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lower back. He pressed his head against mine and in my ear muttered something.
I hummed questionably.
‘You’re so wet,’ he said louder.
‘Your doing,’ I mumbled.
He shoved hard against me, I cried out in surprise then felt small vibrations of pleasure tinging through me. He picked up the rhythm and we rocked together till both us reach climax.
To Be Continued…
I have dreams every night of a crowd of faceless people. The dreams began the same way. I am walking on the street in the middle of a busy city. There are people all around me and I can hear voices, but not words. I come to the end of the street and stop to wait at the lights. It is there I notice that the people around me are faceless. Where there should be faces are just black, empty spaces. As I try to figure out why this is, the lights change. The people move off. I should go with them, but I can’t. All I can think about is why. Then I wake up.
I lie in bed and think about it. What does this dream mean? Why are the people faceless? It fades and I get up. I go about my day and don’t think about it anymore. When I go to bed though, it returns. Once again, I’m in the city. I walk down the street and around me are all these people. I can hear them talking, but can’t fully make out the words. The street ends and I wait for the lights to change. I look at the people close by me. They are faceless. Where the faces should be are black spaces. I wonder about this as the lights change and the people move off. I wake up soon after.
In the morning, I lie there and instead of thinking about the missing faces, I wonder why I keep having this dream. What is it trying to tell me? Good job, it’s a Sunday morning. I internet search the dream to get answers. Dreaming of faceless people could be associated with identity and the loss or inability of accepting that person. Also, linked to the desire to deepen your knowledge of someone’s personality.
No, it did help. I looked more, but don’t find much difference. Of course, if I could figure out who these people might be that would help. There are sub-headings like faceless lover, you being faceless, blurring out face of person you know. I tell myself next time I sleep to try hard to look at the people and put more into memory.
I go to bed early, but when I wake up, my dreams were totally different.
The Author Blog of Jason H. Abbott
Welcome to my Blog of short and long stories.
Learning and teaching the art of composition.
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