These Dreams

POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

 

These Dreams

By Nandy Ekle

I’m standing in a dark room. I can’t see anything, but I feel people around me. Something I had is missing and I’m looking for it. I walk slowly in what feels like a straight line, thinking I will get to the other side of the room. I hold my hands out in front of me, and I feel breezes pass in front of me as if I have just missed bumping into someone. I reach the other side of the room and discover a door knob. A phone begins to ring, but I can’t tell where the it is.

As I open the door air and light rush in. This room is full of people who appear to be frozen in the middle of an action. There’s no noise except the ringing phone. I walk through the room weaving my way around the frozen bodies. People are hanging in mid air, mid conversation, or mid action. They’re waiting for something, and I know that when I find wha’s missing, they will started to move again.

The phone rings louder and I know I’m close. I reach the other end of this new room and put my hand on the door, ready to push it open. A scrap of paper falls from my mouth and I pick it up. The words on the paper spell out, “Answer the phone.” I reach in my pocket and find the source of the ringing.

“Hello?” I say into the speaker.

“Ms. Ekle?”

“Yes?” The voice sounds familiar.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.” A face representing the voice begins to materialize in my head.

“Thank you,” I answer.

“Write.” He says.

“Excuse me?”

“The people in the first room are new characters who would give anything in the world for you to write their stories. The frozen people in the light room are stuck until you finish telling their story. I’m simply telling you to write.”

“Yes, sir.” I say. “Who is this?”

“Stephen King.”

My eyes pop open and I realize I’ve been dreaming again.

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