Mysteries, thrillls and chills . . . one story at a time.
You’re having a nightmare, and have to choose between three doors. Pick one, and tell us about what you find on the other side.
I had a dream once.
I didn’t know it was a dream at the time but when I woke up, sheets clenched in one hand and my .22 in the other, I knew.
This dream I had started out like most: a kiss . . . woodsy musk . . . moist skin . . . sublime release; and the sex, especially the sex, always better than the real deal, left me in a mellow place. I was dreaming, though I didn’t really know it at the time but I knew it was a place I wanted to stay.
Pungent earthy compost, sharp ammonia, devil’s dung took over in the dream that I didn’t know was a dream. My senses reduced to a small shaft of light and lead me down a long hall towards three doors. Strong, majestic . . . mahogany, I thought.
I touch the smooth hardness. Instinct — or perhaps that omniscient knowing that takes place in the dream place — lets me know that one of those doors would lead back to my sensual haze, while the other two would pitch me straight into chaos.
Ah, this one, I thought as my senses caught whiff of a hint of lemon mixed with just a hint of sweet myrrh. The one in the middle. Though I was still dreaming, remember I didn’t know it at the time, I knew I wasn’t ready to wake. I wanted more time with … the kiss . . . woodsy musk . . . moist skin . . . sublime release.
I reached out, time had no meaning here and hours beckoned before my hand touched the cool door handle. No sooner than the knob twisted beneath my anticipatory fingers when a blast of devil’s breath sprayed across my face, lifted me into the air and plunged me deep into the dark abyss below.
Once, I had a dream.