The Fear that Lingers…

Even now as I sit here in my bed, the facts about what just happened are quickly fading away. Like tiny grains of sand slipping through my fingertips, I can’t hold them as they were not built to be held. The essence of what they are is something made to disappear in the waking world, yet what they leave in their path can linger.

I don’t remember where I was just now. Not exactly anyway. Somewhere driving on a familiar road, talking about what comes next. When all of a sudden, the world changes and what comes next will never be the same. It’s that dream I have about the Armageddon. This time I am driving on a road and something happens far off in the distance. It is almost too far outside my periphery, back and to the right and what was day turns into night. I pull the car to the left side of the road, hugging the median and come to a stop, because I know I have to make a choice. And then I wake up.

It’s not real. Of course it’s not real, but the fear that I feel follows me back to reality. Laying awake in bed, it seems like the dark is too dark. I’m afraid something here has changed too and the lingering worry of an alternate reality conjures voices coming for me from down the hall. I struggle to get a grip. I invoke logic and reason at an attempt to dismiss the fear. I plead with my mind to forget quickly so I can sleep, because I know I need it. But I fail because something primal in me does not want to fall back into that place, so I lay awake. Awake and afraid.

The only other thing I remember, is that there were four of us in the dream. There was not four of us in the car, but four I was aware of. Four whose future was at stake. Four who I had to figure out how to keep safe.

About ShySpark

I blog, I garden, I eat cheeseburgers, and sometimes I travel. But mostly I just write poetry...
This entry was posted in From the Maker of Dreams, Journal and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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