Song of Storms

Cropped header image by Nik Cyclist under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic.

This morning, I woke up feeling very ill. There didn’t seem to be much else to do but wait for recovery, and so I slept.

In my first dream, I was on holiday in the summertime, staying in a bedroom on the top floor of someone’s two-storey house on the borders of a town at the countryside. The grey sky cast a layer of shadow over the house, and the rain fell lightly outside. I briefly looked out the window, and saw a small park on the ground level, a road outside the house leading both left or right, and rolling hills occasionally interrupted by lines of trees all the way to the horizon.

I was preoccupied with the room itself; I had been here before, in my childhood. It seemed more like I’d grown up here than visited – there were photos of me with people I didn’t recognise framed in the room, and scattered across the floor were items I got a familiar feeling from, ones I remembered from my childhood. I remembered everything from my childhood, and eventually came onto the subject of other dreams. I realised that I was in a dream, thus ending the dream. Continue reading


Will ‘o the Wisp

Header image by Stan Dalone and Miran Rijavec under Creative Commons 2.0.

Last night I dreamt I was a student at some sort of school, training people to seek out mythical creatures of all kinds; I’d specialised in ghosts and ghost-like beings, and I was given a month to bring back one such being. Most people formed into groups or partnered up with other people; I partnered up with a classmate. We agreed that we wouldn’t look for anything in particular, just that we’d try and bring back whatever we saw. Continue reading

The Way Home

Cropped header image by Tomasz Sienicki under Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported.

It’s very often I dream of unfamiliar places, maybe even the long journey towards it via train stations to roads to even towns that don’t exist. For the first time in a long time last night, I dreamt of the journey home. It reminded me of the relief of coming home from every trip I’ve been on. Coming back from holiday a week or two ago, coming home from holiday last year, coming home after a long convention in October…

I did still dream the journey to my destination; it was a complete blur. I took a road from home that didn’t exist, a road with unevenly spaced shallow stone steps heading up through the garden of a quiet residential area of the town. There were small trees on either side of the steps and I remember being particularly fond of the area, even if I had no time for sightseeing. Just after the garden steps was a massive area of land under construction. A path I usually used was within the fences, but I wasn’t too badly inconvenienced. This part of town didn’t exist either but before I knew it, I was on the plane. Continue reading

The Flood

Header image by mattbuck under Creative Commons 2.0.

If I remember correctly, I lived in a monolithic complex many stories high and multiple blocks wide, every square inch of it monitored by an unknown intelligence service. We didn’t know who they were, but they were done watching and were coming for us one by one. I’d watched some of it out the window, but struggled to actually feel anything about the matter because I knew it’d happen to me either way anyway.

They came for me earlier than I thought; the evening of the next day, to be exact. They were right outside my kitchen window in one of their floating vehicles. I’d prepared for this for a long time, even if it wasn’t the smartest plan in retrospect; I took a folded hang glider, jumped out the window and extended it, flying off into the night over the bay we lived in. He didn’t pursue me, surprisingly. Either he somehow didn’t see me or he was too taken aback by the audacity of what I’d done to pursue.

I know I made it, because my next memory is being in a village that had been abandoned for a few years. I was initially among a small group of people being shown around the village by those who had originally abandoned it – a group of scientists who had chosen the place for whatever they were researching. I was with one other person being shown around by a scientist who worked at this place. The first place was a simple dance hall for leisure on the first floor of a building. A lot of it was things like that. Continue reading