Cliff Dream - Revisited


Its July 1 and I'm finally posting another writing excerpt. I haven't written in so long, but these ideas inside of me are begging to be unleashed onto the world.

Today's excerpt is from a particular dream that I had recently. I posted the dream and how it stuck with me. The dream really had a story to be told. So here is my attempt at telling it. Its only 750 words this time, but I do hope you enjoy it, because I feel like this does the dream some justice.

The setting sun gave an almost magical feel to the world. Dropping below the horizon, the sun set ablaze streaks of purple and red that lit up the evening sky. A few clouds took in these streaks and resonated with a rich hue. Already a few stars dotted the heavens, their light telling of faraway places completely unknown. For a brief moment, this almost hypnotic sight gave the world back something it was losing fast, life. A feeling of hope washed over me, but it was fleeting, for as quickly as I allowed myself to be affected by the scene in front of me, my mind had pushed those feelings away. The dread had returned and settled back into its place.

A wind started up from behind me and sent my black strands floating in the breeze. I fingered my hair back behind my ears and set my arm back at my side. Fingers, not belonging to me, intertwined with mine and gave a reassuring squeeze.

My companion and I stood atop a barren cliff overlooking a vast wasteland. Sand and rocks took up much of the landscape. A few trees dotted the land were barren of all leaves and struggled to survive in this unforgiving place; and they were not the only ones.

I closed my eyes, squeezed my hand tighter around my companion’s hand, and let the wind run through me. I could feel its magic working quickly. The wind flowed through my hair swirling the strands around, it blew through my pure white habit cooling the heat thrust upon me by the setting sun. It blew through me from the east, towards the setting ball of fire. It blew there, but I didn’t want it there. I wanted it around my companion and I; I wanted its strength, its power, and its life to fill all those places that the dread had settled. The wind obliged.

A rush of air swirled around us. The wind, all too gladly, gave me what I wanted. The strength of the wind lifted my spirits. Its life fought the dread inside of me, letting in the hope. My eyes still closed, I allowed a smirk to creep onto my lips. This action a rarity on my part brought a sudden burst of laughter from somewhere. I quickly opened my eyes looking for the source, and the wind dropped, it continued on its original path toward the setting sun.

My companion was laughing. The sound rang in my ears and brought sudden memories of days gone by. I shook my head, not allowing those thoughts to fill the corners of my mind, and my grin disappeared; the laughter stopped along with it.

We stared at each other, into the other’s eyes. Both of us knowing what was to come, and knowing that this sense of foreboding was all too accurate. The time had come for us to leave this fantasy land atop the cliff and make our return back to the world that needed us. My hand was turned loose, and a streak of black flew by me disappearing over the edge of the cliff.

I allowed myself one last look at the scene before, engraving the image onto my mind, engraving the contrast of death and life that shone from it. I wouldn’t allow myself to forget it.

I made those few steps to the edge of the cliff and turned around. I let myself fall back with my arms hanging loose into the open air. I looked up at the sky as I descended to the earth not bothering to call the wind to my assistance. As I got closer to the earth a sudden gust of wind, shot up below me slowing my fall, and I landed lightly in my companions arms.

My companion, my husband, smiled down at me, his smile a more common sight than mine. He shook his head in disapproval at my actions, me not calling on the wind to break my own fall.

“What if I wasn’t paying attention?” He said to me, setting me down on my feet.

“You always are.” I replied.

We walked over to our truck, a purple four-door pickup provided to us by the residents of a small village we had recently visited, and got in. My husband started up the engine and turned us back around onto the main road.

We continued our journey north, with the sun setting to the west, and our fantasy land left behind us.

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