When you close your eyes, what do you always daydream about?
Every time it’s the same. I close my eyes, and I see a door. It’s not always the same door, and the distance to the door varies from dream to dream, but it’s always within view. Sometimes it is bent and scarred, and sometimes it is solid and smooth and imposing. Sometimes I am right on top of it, and sometimes I have to travel to it.
I have inspected every door I have encountered. They are never attached to a manmade structure. They stand alone, or float high up in the clouds, or seem carved out of the landscape. Once it was on the floor of a sea, submerged in water that neither choked me nor burned my lungs. Water I could breathe as naturally as air. I do not know where it led.
I do not know where any of them lead. I do not know if they all lead to the same place or if they lead anywhere at all. I am always pulled away from the door as soon as my hand decides to reach for the handle. I am thrust back into my body and out of the dream, just as I am about to uncover the secrets of the door.
Today the door is humming. I am standing in a grassy plain under cloudless blue skies as far as the eye can see. The expansive void nearly suffocates me. One hundred yards away, the intricately carved wooden door beckons me. I blink and I am within reach. I do not know what hides in the grass, but I can feel its eyes upon me now. I just have to reach for the handle and I will wake up.
A shiver runs down my spine as my hand connects with the bone carved handle of the door. The wood sings and a hush falls over the plains, silencing voices so quiet I hadn’t even noticed them until they were gone. They do not like the song.
I don’t know why I haven’t woken up. Will this door take me home? It yearns to be opened. I can feel it in much the same way I can feel the shadow lurking in the grass wants this meddler out of its world. The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. This dream is not safe and there is only one way out.
I turn the handle of the door.
Notes: Most of my daydreaming is done with eyes wide open. I don’t really have vivid daydreams either. They’re more a train of thought getting rerouted and derailed. A series of “what if” scenarios and replayed or rehearsed conversations. I suppose some of that mental energy is spent in thinking about my stories and my characters and the blog. Brainstorming is a form of daydreaming after all.
I hope you’re having a great week and getting some words written with me. Let’s do this same time tomorrow, ok? Ok, cool. See you then!
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