Tag Archives: dreams

Dreams – Flash Fiction

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She stood face to face with her biggest fear.
Her quickening heart was heading toward explosion; her liquefying knees meant she stood no chance of running away from it; and it seemed that every inch of her porcelain skin and long blond hair was breaking out into a cold sweat.
“I thought that you were going to make my dreams come true?!” she shouted, unblinking, unmoving
“I did” came the sorcerer’s reply
“this is not my biggest dream” she stated, her voice quaking
“according to my powers it is”
“more like a nightmare this one”
“But nightmares are dreams too”

 

[100 words – Drabble]

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Escape

My eyes were fixed blankly on the computer screen in front of me, unaware of the people and conversations that surrounded me. I was bored. Fed-up. Unproductive. Day-dreaming of better days to come yet annoyed with myself for not putting in the effort to make future dreams a reality.

I wanted to be anywhere except at work. It was repetitive, fruitless and full of bossy, pretentious co-workers. I didn’t have the confidence to pursue my life’s ambitions and had become lifeless, dull and inactive; resigning myself to an office job, working 9 til 5. What a way to make a living.

My thoughts were often interrupted by the boss who would come over to ask me to do something. On the other side of me, a colleague would appear as well, also asking me to do something. I felt cornered, confined to the standard issue office swivel chair, spinning from one person to the next, never-ending to-do-list; everyone’s dogsbody.

One day, in the middle of another menial task, I felt twinges in my back. It started off like little flutters within the muscles, I thought from hunching over my desk, but before long an agony began, spreading across my shoulders. Suddenly it felt like my bones and muscles were trying to escape, pulling from me. I felt something protruding from me. I moved frantically trying to get a better look, urgently moving toward the mirror in the little kitchenette area.

My colleagues didn’t glance my way; they were too absorbed in themselves. I was panicked. The sound of material shredding made me more frantic. What was happening to me?!

I fell to my knees in agony as something grew from my being. I winced and growled, fearing what was happening when, as quickly as it started, it stopped. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling a weight on my back. I didn’t want to believe it. I thought I was going insane, having a mental breakdown when, looking in that small wall mirror, I saw them for the first time.

There on my back; from my shoulder blades to be precise, were a pair of big, dark feathery wings.

With a little effort I managed to make them flutter. With a little more effort I lifted off the ground. I was unsteady but I kept fluttering, concentrating hard on making these things go. I kept flapping. My fear changed to joy in my new found state.

I lifted higher and higher in the air, my co-workers still too absorbed in their work to notice as I flew through the entrance doors, never to return.

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23/365 – The Mean Guy and The Notebook

Day 23 – Another story inspired by a dream I had, which most definately came about from watching the film version of Roald Dahl’s Matilda, that scene where her dad tears up the library book; except in my dream, the action took place at a pub and instead of the main character being an avid reader, she is a writer. Happy Reading…

It had been such a great night until He showed up.  We were drinking, eating, chatting, laughing; and as usual, I had my notebook out, jotting down any observations of the people around us, not letting on if I had made a note of something my friends had done that could inspire a story. They were used to me and my idea book, the sudden stops in my conversation as I conspired with it, bringing characters to life, giving them a story. It was all part and parcel of having a writer for a friend and they never once showed a problem with it; even occasionally giving me crazy, weird, and random ideas to try and help me. I appreciated them so much for just letting me do my thing. And I appreciated them a whole lot more when the ex-boyfriend of one of our friends showed up. Thankfully she wasn’t with us or there would have been a slanging match between the two, but because he wanted someone to yell at (he was a moron like that) he decided to pick on me and my beloved notebook.

“What you writing Rachel?” he hissed, taking the notebook from under me, flicking through the pages

“Notes for a novel; y’know, it’s my job” I replied, very aware of the silence that enveloped our group

“Well I think you’re novels are dumb” he hissed angrily, and he started to tear pages from the notebook, ripping them apart, casting them to the ground, stamping on them, spitting on them.

I watched in shock as he did this, doubting that he had ever read a book, my friends trying to stop him, but when his little fit was over, I leaped from my seat and started hitting him. My tiny frame wouldn’t even leave a mark on his long tall body but I was just so angry. My friend Jonny pulled me off him and all He did then was cackle, probably thinking he was so great, winding people up like that, and He walked away.

I sank to the ground to see the damage done. My notebook wasn’t going to make it; it was in bits, covered in dirty footprints and the vile venom of that guy. I could see bits of ideas scrawled down, but I couldn’t find any other bits that belonged to them.

My friends all said that they would buy me a new one, but I said there was no point, notebooks can be brought really cheap, it’s the ideas that I can’t replace.

“Maybe he can be the bad guy in your next book” suggested Laura

“Maybe” I replied, and the cogs of my writer’s mind began to turn…

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20/365 – Ethel, The Ship, and The Tower

Day 20 – This piece was inspired by a dream I had, probably subconciously thinking about the cruise ship in Italy right now, and for some reason, the woman in my dream was Kate Winslet acting… not only are my dreams random but there’s actually actors in them, like my own personal movie; so strange (but pretty cool). Oh, and the story is very close to the dream I had, with only a few tweeks, I didn’t just watch Titanic. Hope you like it…

The year was 2004; a pretty unremarkable year for me personally, well, except for one remarkable lady who entered and vacated my life at this time. Our story as friends is only a piece of flash fiction, rather than several chapters of a novel, but I’ll never forget the wit and wisdom she shared with me, or the pure loveliness of her.

Her name was Ethel. I met her when I was volunteering my spare time at a residential home, helping to entertain and provide companionship to the elderly. It did take her a while to come out of her shell when I would sit with her in her room, but when she did, she regaled me with her stories. Living through World War I, life as an army nurse during World War II, witnessing the moon landings, and multiple presidents being shot; where she was and what she doing during the recent history of the USA and personal stories of her husband and children.

She really opened up to me; the staff there at the home were really pleased that someone had managed to get through to her. She’d never spoken to them like she did with me and I think most of the staff thought she was a lost cause, not bothering to be social, just waiting for death to take her from this earth.

But I know that she wasn’t actually waiting for death. She was holding out, refusing to die. This was because the frail 99 year old that I visited with had something about her that she wanted the world to believe. She felt she was special and wanted someone to see that. I found this out when one day in mid-July, she said to me,

“You know… I was on board the Titanic, on one of the first lifeboats to be launched”

Before I could respond, she continued,

“I was also in the World Trade Centre, the North tower, when it got hit by those planes, I was only on the ground floor at the time, so I left immediately to avoid the chaos, not knowing how events would unfold. I was quite lucky really”

I looked at Ethel, not quite believing what she had just divulged to me, but looking into her eyes, I could tell she was telling the truth.

I asked her many questions about what she remembered of these events. Although it never occurred to ask what a then 96 year old woman was doing at the World Trade Centre.

“You actually believe me?” she asked

“Of course” I replied

“Oh good” she looked relieved, “everybody else I’ve told, didn’t believe me”

I went home that evening imagining what it would have been like on the titanic, you know, before it sank, all the glamour and majesty of it. When I got through my front door, I told my parents about the wonderful, lovely, special person that Ethel was, telling them that she must be the only person that can boast about being involved in two major events in history.

I went back to her the next day, hoping for more stories involving major events, maybe she had some kind of memorabilia or something I could look at.

The day wouldn’t pan out as I hoped though. Upon my arrival at the residential home, the staff at the desk where I signed in told me that Ethel had passed away; going to sleep, to never wake up again, shortly after I had left her. I was shocked and deeply saddened. I immediately left, wanting to be alone, but instead of going back home, I walked to ground zero. I looked around the site, thinking of Ethel being there on that fateful day and it occurred to me; Ethel had finally found someone who believed what she had about being special. With that she finally let go, comforted in knowing that someone on this earth didn’t write her off as just a crazy old woman.

It was then I decided to write a book in memory of this remarkable woman, writing down her stories as she had told them to me; making sure that everybody knew just how special she was.

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13/365 – Part Time Lover

Day 13 – Found the idea for this jotted down in an old notebook; it was based on a dream I had, which I think came about from a TV show I had watched at the time, can’t name the show though as it will give away the ending. The piece is a little rushed but I think it’s good, I hope you do too…

Sasha rummaged through her things to make sure that she had everything. She was always a nervous flyer, but this time she felt more relief than anxiousness to be on the plane that would be taking her home. As she sat back in her seat, next to her mother, her mind drifted to Mark and Jamie, she hoped they were ok, she really didn’t like how it was left with them, and didn’t want to wait until they were home to sort it all out, but she had to be patient now. Whilst Sasha and her family had caught the plane to France, Mark and Jamie had gotten the Eurostar, they had to come a few days later than the others and neither of them were keen on planes, so now Sasha had to wait until they were both back on English soil.

* * *

With nothing else to do on the plane, Sasha sat back and thought of the time she first met Jamie. It was about a year before, she was at somebody’s house party with Mark, she couldn’t remember their names, they were Mark’s friends who she hadn’t seen before or since. She had gone to get something from Mark’s car and when she came back into the house, planted a big kiss on Mark’s lips. However, when she pulled away it wasn’t Mark it was somebody else completely. She felt so embarrassed by her blunder, but all this guy did was smile and introduce himself, Jamie. It was an easy mistake to make though as they did look similar, but it didn’t stop her feeling like such a moron. As he walked away, he looked back and smiled at her, there was something very familiar about Jamie.

It wasn’t long before she started dating Jamie. She remained with Mark, in love with him, but she couldn’t resist her growing feelings for Jamie. Was it possible to be in love with two people at the same time? Sasha was starting to think so. It got a little bit confusing sometimes, remembering who she was with, and what she had told them. One time, she started reminiscing with Mark about a date she had been on with Jamie; it could have got a whole lot of awkward but she managed to pass it off as a dream she had.

* * *

Like Mark, her family didn’t know about Jamie either, so it was going to be very difficult to go on holiday with them and with Mark and Jamie. There was no way she could get out of it though. The past year of dating both Mark and Jamie was just training for this moment.

The week in France went by quickly and smoothly enough. Time with the family and Mark went by without a hiccup, and she managed to get plenty of alone time with both Mark and Jamie; Sasha couldn’t quite believe how great things had gone; it was almost too good to be true.

And it was. On the last night, Jamie began to question everything. “Why haven’t we spent time with your family?”, “I’m on holiday with them and haven’t properly met them”, “are you ashamed of me or something?”

Sasha managed to reassure Jamie, telling him that her parents wanted time alone together; that they were just using the cottage for sleep before heading off on their own adventures, leaving the two of them to their own thing. Jamie remained miffed that he hadn’t actually met them but he accepted Sasha’s excuse.

* * *

On the plane, Sasha knew it would come to this eventually; she couldn’t go on lying to Mark and Jamie, making excuses, hiding them from each other. She couldn’t keep this secret anymore, she had to tell them. But oh dear reader, it is more complex than you may think. Yes, Sasha is having a relationship with both Mark and Jamie; however, Mark is Jamie, like Jekyll is Hyde. But neither of them know of the other’s existence.

 

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12/365 – Exam Day

Day 12 – A piece of flash fiction to note that my last ever exam at university was one year ago today, on the 12th January 2011. I still had essays to do, and a dissertation, but going to your last ever exam feels like an absolute milestone…

It was her last ever exam. Today was Maria’s last ever exam. She was so excited about exams being over that she was mentally planning her graduation instead of taking one last look at her revision notes; there wasn’t any doubt that she would pass anyway.

Being just one exam away felt like such a weight had been lifted. The last three years of hard work, getting lost in notes, buried under hundreds of sheets of paper, was about to pay off. Goodbye University, hello real world. No more education for Maria.

She awoke, dazed and confused, surrounded by people.

“What’s going on?” she croaked

“You fell and banged your head coming into the exam hall” replied the university’s first aider

“Think you’ll have to do your first exam at a later date” said her English tutor, “you should go to hospital and make sure you don’t have a concussion”

First exam! Maria was nowhere near finishing her degree. She felt deflated and disappointed, knowing that the remaining 2 and a half years at uni were going to drag.

 

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5/365 – Horror Movie Life

Day 5 – Another piece of flash fiction based on a dream I’ve had. The title could be better but for now, I feel it sums up perfectly the story I have written…

I was with my boyfriend and his mom in the car, locked in but I still didn’t feel safe at all. As we approached a junction in the road, the creepy horror movie fog was clearing a little; looking ahead, in the faded streetlight we could see a shadow moving; like it was dragging something… or somebody. I screamed inwardly, but outwardly I just put my foot down and turned right. We pulled up outside my house but I didn’t want to go in; this was where it had all started. I looked up at the hollow building in front of us, revisiting in my mind everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. I had no idea what we were doing back there. Reversing back onto the road, I tried to manoeuvre around a car just abandoned in the street; as we passed I recoiled in horror, realising the driver sat lifeless in his car. Screams from my boyfriend and his mother made me snap my head back around and slam on the brakes… there in front of us was him. That same shadowy figure.

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