The Porch Light copyright by Revka (2006-2010). All rights reserved.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Pregnancy Dreams - Great for Creative Writing

I don't normally dream on a regular basis. Perhaps it's just that I don't remember my dreams. If I do remember dreaming, it's usually because I had a nightmare. Thankfully, I don't often remember details of the dream - just that I had a bad dream.

When I am pregnant, however, what normally happens doesn't apply. I often have vivid and crazy dreams that stay with me even after I've woken. Sometimes these dreams are disturbing because they contradict all of my beliefs and values. Others are sweet. My dream last night made tears come to my eyes. I thought it could possibly make a great story or even a book.

Here are the last couple of scenes, although some details are missing.

She was walking up the worn stone steps when a voice stopped her.

"Mrs. Amir."

Her heart seemed to stop beating and for one short second she felt frozen in place. Slowly, she turned around to see the quiet detective from the plane.

"You are leaving." His words were a statement, not a question.

"My husband died years ago," she choked out. But she knew that did not matter. Realizing the futility of any attempt at flight or self-defense, she stood quietly facing him, waiting, knowing that the law gave him the right as he pulled out his weapon and put four bullets in her forehead.

**********************************************************

Jake talked to his sister.

"Any time you and (her husband's name) want to do something by yourselves, let me know. I'll watch the kids for you."

Troubled, she studied his face intently as she tried to decipher the reason behind his offer. "But what about you? You should be getting out yourself. I know a few girls that I think you would like. There's..."

His voice was a little hoarse as he interrupted her. "No, thanks. I'm not interested. Not now, and not ever."

She knew him well enough not to pursue the subject further.

As his sister left the room, his mind drifted back to the day he left (name of country). Although they had never spoken of love, he had known she loved him. He loved her, too, with all that was in him, and he'd never forget the scene that met his eyes as he approached the house to pick her up for the beginning of the long journey to his home. He had been too far away to do anything but watch in horror as she crumpled to the ground and the echoes of four shots assaulted his ears. In that instant, he knew that the unspoken dreams they shared would never be realized and he would always be alone, for the kind of love he had for her would allow room for no other woman in his heart.

1 comments:

Rakel McDuff said...

I either don't dream or just don't remember them. The days I do wake up knowing I had a dream I wake up exhausted like I've been running or something.