This is me trying again, this is me trying to accomplish something finally. This is hope.
I dream nearly every night, and my friends laugh and marvel at how my dreams always seem to have plots and stories and fully formed ideas (strange and twisted albeit). I had a lucid dream last night, but the lucidity came from the emotion I felt, and I awoke with such a longing for that pure emotion. I wrote what happened but I have yet to find the time to sit and write it with the same emotion, to really put in what I felt in those moments.
I will do it, soon, but here is the first copy.
In the dark bar I could just hear the mumbling of conversation around each table. I walked to the silver mirror to the left of the bar counter and felt a presence. I was called to a table, away from the mirror. I caught the eye of Jared, his brooding eyes and straight mouth made my head swim. But then the smoke in the room thickened and I heard the conversations numb.
There was an echo against my chest and something whispered into my ear, my feet no longer felt solid ground and my eyes opened to the gasps in the room. The ceiling was inches from my nose but I felt no fear, I dropped slowly, my back to the black mirror to the right of the bar. The fearful glances at me contrasted with the sweet embrace I could feel against the mirror. I raised my chin to fall back on to a shoulder to who wasn’t behind me; I felt arms that weren’t there fold themselves around me. A laugh flowed out from behind the black mirror, “she’s mine.”
I felt like I was swung and the ceiling was in front of me again and then I dropped with no safety hand on me. The floor didn’t hit me before I felt real arms catch me though, a strong muscled chest pulled me in, a cold kiss on my forehead and I felt no more.