All posts tagged: dreams

NaPoWriMo – Day Eleven : Leavers’ Dreams

Between the leavers books and last day photos, where we stand pressed tight against each other arms locked over rib-cages and shoulders with smiles showing every tooth and crease at the edges of of eyes, we threw our ten year plans out like helicopter seeds, their swirling fragile bodies caught up in our whirlwinds so desperate to flee the school gates to escape to the world lying beyond where we would become doctors, architects, teachers, opera singers, engineers, artists, and writers, because thirty was a long way away and we were all more than capable of closing the distance between what we were and who we wanted to be. Five years in at the halfway mark I’m still spinning stories for strangers who know my name and my words but little more than that. Plans of conquering my third novel by the time I such and such have turned to let’s just get this one finished for god’s sake please, some time between the steps I’m climbing one accountancy exam at a time and the …

Dangerous Sleeper

Have you ever elbowed someone in the throat while you slept? In my defence, I was aiming to elbow an extremely, infuriating housemate in the ribs, it just so happened that I was dreaming and my boyfriend rolled over to see what I was mutter about. (I talk in my sleep.) Hence elbow in the throat and a very, surreal wakeup. I can’t even claim that this was a one time affair. Both my boyfriend and I are quite active sleepers, rolling over, shifting about and blurting out random comments while we sleep. I wake up to find he’s rolled over and pinned me in my sleep, the other night I got kneed in the but and he’s always informing me of the various punches and elbows that I supposedly sent his way as I tossed and turned in the night. (Somehow sliding half-way down the bed is also a common occurrence with me. It really confuses him.) I’m not sure what I chatter on about in my sleep, but I’ll leave you with a …

Grass Stalk Children

  There was a trick to whistling with a blade of grass; a trick that Stephen could manage but for some reason whenever Mary tried, it was damps hands and shredded foliage instead of whistles. “Don’t worry,” he told her, cleaning off her hands with his sleeve before snatching up more grass by the roots, “I will teach you.” He showed her how to angle the blade against her lips, to blow over the blade and send sharp slices of sound flying across the fields between his house and hers. “When I marry, everyone in the audience will have to whistle as I walk down the aisle; everyone except for you.” she said. “I won’t have to whistle,” he whispered, leaning in close, “because when I grow up I’m going to be the one marrying you.”     Prompt taken from: Five Sentence Fiction