One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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making dreamwriting pretty

I had a dream last night of a gray world

There were corpses in the lot behind me

I was stabbed through the chest, pinned to the pole behind me
looking up to the sky

my stepmother found me, in shock, said we should call the ambulance
I reached up towards what bound me to the wall, began to look down towards the weapon still lodged in my chest
curling up around it

we called 911, but she said that we'd have to wait for a little while

I freed myself, and slid down the wall, clutching the wound

and we waited

for five hours

and nobody came


I had a dream last night of a gray world in which concrete featured; it felt like a cloudy evening after a rain in a hospital parking lot. There had been fighting (or was it an ambush?), and many lay dead ... flat positions of horror like the skeletons of Pompeii. I was there, but I had lived. I was in a state of separation from the world, pinned to the pole behind me by a weapon left in my chest. My face was turned to the sky.

My stepmother, out for some other reason, discovered the scene and me. She cried out and said that we should call 911, get an ambulance! Her reality called my attention back to what had happened, and I looked down as I reached up, falling as I curled like a dry leaf. The weapon was now gone and I was free, but the injury remained.

I lay in a crumpled heap as she called for help, and I cupped my hands around the wound, emotions vague. We waited, and we waited ... five hours passed as I died yet recovered, waiting for a help which never came.
Tags: dream writing

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