seeking_brilliance

?Stories by the Fire?-- a short story mega-thread

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1 hour ago, seeking_brilliance said:

To the Top - short story

It was the longest dream I've ever had. I remember climbing what felt like an endless mountain, and all the little stops along the way-- whole cities carved into its glittering rocky side. At first I didn't know that I was dreaming, and everything just started out like normal (well, as normal as any dream can be.) Even before I was lucid, I found it very intriguing to visit the first few levels of the cavernous cities. Each one was so unique and beautiful, and the chiseled streets bursting with energy. 

The third city I visited was a bit more advanced than the previous, having learned to use crystals and gemstones as power sources for their crude technology. I got swept up in a particularly odd side-quest, in which I followed a group of gem miners deep into the heart of the mountain. One of them fell into a bottomless pit on the way to a big score. The bridge across the pit had snapped, and I wasn't strong enough to save her. Despair hit me like a swinging axe, when suddenly she plopped out of the ceiling and landed safely on the other side. 

Here, I learned that each city is stuck on their respective levels in some sort of safety loop. At least it made sense while I was dreaming; and even as I began to gain lucidity I was bound to this limiting law of the dream. The only way to travel to another city was to head back to the face of the mountain, and fly up and away (a gift none of the inhabitants seemed to possess.)

Somewhere around the fifth city, I was fully aware that I was dreaming. Even by that point it felt as if this had been going on forever. I decided to explore this city while lucid, and just see if I could make it to the next before waking up (typically my dreams break down not long after realizing.) This city was the most brilliant yet, as the inner dwellings were all made of giant glowing crystals and the moist air buzzed with power. The dwellers showed signs of telepathic technology-- or in other words, their thoughts were transmitted to a crystal tablet which they wore on top of their heads. I flew straight to the nearest crystal headband store and delightfully joined in on the fun. However, despite these advances, the inhabitants still squabbled amongst themselves and prayed to money. 

The sixth and seventh cities were exponentially more advanced and unique; but as I continued to dream, I noticed an increasing loss of enthusiasm for exploring. This was dragging on so long, I found myself getting bored and thinking about stuff I needed to do tomorrow after waking up. Those bills don't pay themselves, ya know.

"If I ever wake up, that is" I said, sitting in on an impromptu performance of the most angelic choir and crystal symphony. Don't get me wrong: I was also able to enjoy the music, but a sense of anxiety begins to build when you don't know how long you've been asleep. For all I knew, my phone could be ringing off the hook because I've dreamed through my alarm and running late for work. I stopped for a moment and listened; I heard nothing but the choir. 

I flew up past a few levels, and only stopped briefly at the  eleventh because there were lots of fireworks. Crystal-optic projections, most likely-- but just as spectacular, if not more.  They seemed to be celebrating something huge; and as I climbed the mountain, the inhabitants had now gained the ability to fly, like me. They were also able to travel between levels, but appeared as unrecognizable to the lower caverns. This struck me as odd, because I'm able to interact with all levels; but then again, it was just a dream, right?

I wanted to wake up. Something within told me that I would have to reach the top of the mountain to do so, but the higher I climbed, the top seemed further and further away. I began to worry about my loved ones. Hopefully I wasn't lying in bed in some kind of sleep coma. I could only imagine my wife calling the ambulance and my daughter crying because her daddy wouldn't wake up. Every possible dramatic scenario rushed through my mind as I climbed ever higher, never quite able to reach the top. 

It came to a point where I realized I was never going to wake up. This was hard to accept at first, so I stopped into some random high level city and received a quantum healing to help me think. I just had to reach the top of the mountain... if I didn't wake up, it would hurt those who miss me. As the gaseous crystals flooded my being, I was presented with quite another thought:

I'm already there.

It was true. I could sense myself standing at the top, arms spread wide and taking in the glorious freedom. This was naught but a fleeting glimpse tucked away in a hidden corner of my mind; yet seeing it now, I needed no reassurance. This whole climb was a distraction from what's truly there in front of me. I could see now, I was always there, already at the top of the mountain. I could wake myself up at any time. 

                     *************

Kelly grunted in the light of my phone, and rolled over. 

It was 4 a.m. and pleasantly satisfied, I remembered it was my day off and went back to sleep.

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Is it really your dream or have you made it up?

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@seeking_brilliance But it could be a dream. I dream so often of rocks and stones, me climbing them of hanging on the edge. But I never afraid of not being able to wake, I am also never bored in a dream. And the part where the character is waiting for alarm in the middle of his dream is really funny! :) 

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3 hours ago, Hulia said:

@seeking_brilliance But it could be a dream. I dream so often of rocks and stones, me climbing them of hanging on the edge. But I never afraid of not being able to wake, I am also never bored in a dream. And the part where the character is waiting for alarm in the middle of his dream is really funny! :) 

I have never been bored in a dream, but I have had one or two where I was surprised I haven't woken up yet. 

Glad you found that part funny. ?


Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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Stories come to me at different times and places. While walking, while reading a book by someone else, in the shower, on a bus ride and when I sit with friends in a pub are some examples. On a couple of occasions, stories came to me in dreams. But it's very rare for me to write one as soon as the idea comes, and so I keep an idea notebook. I get a lot of them, so I tuck them all into The Story List. Some get deleted or self desrtuct, like the tape from Control at the beginning of Mission: Impossible movies. Every now and then, when I open the the story list to peek at what's inside, this fountain of ideas looks up at me.

One night, while I was lying in bed on the edge of sleep, I thought up an entire novella in my head. I called it Ascension. I remember sitting up, swinging my feet out onto the floor, and realizing it was already morning. I sat that way for a little while, and when I saw my lead female character, Sapphire, as a bright central image, I went clearing my work desk and start up my computer. I began writing Ascension. It took about a month, and it came the most easily of all the stories I have ever written, layering itself sweetly and naturally as it went along.

Once in awhile both stories and babies arrive in the world almost without labor pains, and Ascension was like that.

I will share it with you soon,

Greg

Edited by Eternal Unity
Ascension

"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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The Day of the Dragon Part II

 

Initiate: Are you a lineage holder?

Master: Yes. I have been a lineage holder for 25 years.

Initiate: How old are you, master?

Master: Ninety-three.

Initiate: Am I to understand, since I am your direct student,that I will be a future Lineage Holder myself?

Master: First, You have to, in some way, overcome The Dragon.

Initiate: Am I going to fight him?

Master: I cannot answer that for the simple reason that I honestly don't know. When my time came, I fought him. But any master who ever lived tells his own tale of The Day of the Dragon. What will be required of you? Well, I am not a prophet, remember?

My master smiles.

I smiled myself and looked at the grey asphalt under my feet. Two black ants passed through one of the cracke fissures on the ground. One ant carried a grain.Wheat, by the looks of it. The pair of ants moved fast (as fast as ants can go) and I was sure they will stop, at least for the first ant to pass the wheat-grain to the second. But that is not what happened. The empty handed ant – if you can say that – came close to the first one, but changed route very quickly and passed the first ant, who haven't even noticed there was another ant in the vicinity. I deduced this from the way the first ant held up the grain. It had blocked her line of sight. The line, in which, the second ant was.

So, there's a sequence of events here: The grainless ant, which I understood to be The Ant Queen of the hill I saw every morning when I entered my master's training field, went about her business - identified her friend carrying a very large wheat grain. Immediately and with no hesitation, she accelerated her pace and turned toward her fellow ant to help her. When their time to meet was upon them, I, Chang, looked down on the grey asphalt.

The ant with the grain hadn't seen me because that large grain blocked me, as well, from her line of site. The queen, however, saw exactly what - according to her personal past experience with humans - was going to happen. The queen was sure her time in the mortal world is going to come to an end. Seconds to live, which in turn, lead to a single moment. In that moment – her life would be over.

The Queen had made a decision. To leave her fellow ant and run for her life.

At this point, I lifted my gaze from the ants and looked in the eyes of my master. After about three seconds I blinked without looking away. My master blinked, as well. A this moment I did something I have never dared to do before - willingly disconnect the eye contact of my master, the lineage holder.

My master looked at the sky and pondered the weather silently. It is going to rain soon, he thought.

I took a few steps away from the ants, which met and passed the wheat grain between them. After looking away, probably, the queen understood the treat upon her life have disappeared – not unlike the threat upon MY life. That which I felt before sunrise and moment before my master entered the main training field.

I began to practice the earliest exersice I have ever learned back in Beijing when I was seven. The 99 Tai Chi Basic Movements. At a certain point my master joined me and synchronized with my movements.

Ho Tai Cha.

It began to rain.

Initiate: You knew it was going to rain, I saw you.

Master: I thought it might.

Initiate: Doesn't that make you a prophet?

Master: In a way.

Initiate: Then we have the potential to become prophets, each of us. And even more.

My master looked at me. a graceful look.

Master: The ants?

Initiate: Yes.

Master Lee smiled.

Master Lee: Welcome!

Initiate: Thank you, master.

I smiled.

Master Lee: You have come a long way. To teach you, has been my honor.

Initiate: You won't teach me anymore?

Master Lee: As of today, you will have a new teacher, Master Chang. I will remain at my current post and initiate a new student. You are always welcome to seek counsel at my humble abode.

Master Chang: It is 10 AM.

Master Lee: Indeed.

Master Chang: In what form will he appear?

Master Lee: You'll find out in three minutes.

Master Chang: You're not staying with me.

Master Lee: If I stay, The Dragon won't show up.

Master Chang: Of course.

Master Lee bowed down and exited the field. I sat in my usual meditation position and closed my eyes.

My consciousness transforms. My thoughts are standing still. Time Stops. I am alive. My heart sings with joy. The Song of Crystal Angels.

 

Temple of Compassion, A.D. 2505.

Galethea: Chang

I open my eyes. If front of me stands a western man in his fifties. Bald, with a black yarmulke on the top of his head, what a jewish individual puts on during a prayer. I am not sure how I know this but I know that it is true.

I am still in my master's main training field, same place I sat down in my meditation pose, an eternity ago.

 

The Dragon: It is 10:03. The morning of September 4th, 2015. Peace be unto you, Master Chang.

His Mandarin Chinese was perfect.

The Dragon: Get up.

I start to exit my meditation but to my surprise I discover there is no ground underneath me.

Master Chang: I am already up.

The Dragon: Sit down.

Lotus.

Master Chang: I am levitating. The ground is one meter underneath me.

The Dragon: Indeed, it is so.

Master Chang: How did you do that?

The Dragon: I did nothing. It is all you.

Master Chang: How is it possible for me to do something of which I have no knowledge about?

The Dragon: I have knowledge about it.

Master Chang: You are me.

The Dragon remains silent.

Master Chang: We are both expressions of The One.

The Dragon smiled. I discover that I am sitting on the ground again. I exit my meditation and get up to face the dragon.

Master Chang: We are ONE entity split into an infinite number of pieces.

The Dragon smiled again.

The Dragon: Tell me something I don't know.

Master Chang: The Lyran Civilization resides in the 13th Dimension of Existence.

The Dragon considered this. Without looking away, he walked towards me. When I was close enough to see his eyes, he stopped. His height was the same as mine.

The Dragon: What do you know about Dimensional Densities?

I considered this.

Master Chang: I know there are 7 densities, they are The Multiversal Experience.

The Dragon smiled for the third time.

The Dragon: My name is Matan Greenberg. I am 56 years of age and I live in Israel.

Master Chang: I am Chang Fu, 49 years old from Beijing, China.

We shake hands.

I wonder.

Chang: My master told me a curious thing. He said he met you a long time ago.

Matan: I met your master 62 years ago. In 1953.

I did the math in my head.

Chang: How is that possible?

Matan: You tell me.

Chang: At a certain point in the future we'll discover how to move through Time & Space at super luminal speed. A technology which will allow us to travel through time as well as space. You are The Cosmic Explorer. You are the rightful owner of The Compass.

Matan: I am The 4th Keeper of the Compass.

Chang: Tell me about The Prophets.

Matan: Ten of them are on earth right now.

Chang: Is one – or more – are in China?

Matan: You're the first.

I smile.

Chang: What is my path?

Matan: To walk the earth and teach those who are willing to learn.

Chang: I never went beyond the borders of my country and I do not know any another language.

Matan: That's how we all start.

Chang: With full humility and utmost gratitude, I accept this great honor. I pledge myself to The Sacred Oath.

Stillness.

Chang: What is my first destination?

Matan: Consult with Master Lee.

Chang: Thank you, Matan.

Matan bows down.

Chang: We won't meet again for many decades.

Matan: Indeed.

I bow down. Matan is gone.

Master Lee enters the training field.

Master Lee: Where do you need to go?

Master Chang: I haven't decided yet.

Master Lee: India.

Chi.

Master Lee: You must cut your hair.

I did not had a haircut in nine years. One of our laws is not to cut our hair until we have completed the initiation.

Chang: Why?

Lee: Kundalini.

Chi.

Chang: What is that?

Lee: The energy flow between The Chakras.

Chi.

Chang: What are Chakras?

Lee: Gateways from The Realm of the Absolute to The Physical Universe. Specifically, your body.

Shi Zen.

Chang: Understood. I will cut my hair.

Stillness.

Chang: Where do I go once I'm in India?

Lee: The Himalayas. Meet with The Yogis. Study their tradition, give input when needed and above all – respect their culture. You'll be fine.

Chang: Maybe it's time for lunch? I haven't eaten anything close to 24 hours.

Lee: And how are you feeling?

I took a deep breath and let it out.

Chang: I am no longer afraid, Lee.

 

The End.


"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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(my short story, painting by MindVenture Club member Patrick Jeremy McCollum) 

Darkness Comes

I stood watching from the highest tower as darkness descended upon my kingdom in thick swirling smoke. This was it. Though I'd tried everything, my power to hold back the coming calamity was failing quick. All I had done was for nothing. The land was lost and I would die alone, the last prince of Mithryndale. 

No, there must be something more I could do. Perhaps by channelling the last of my power, I could suspend the castle in a pocket of time. It was risky, and sure to rip me apart-- but the castle must not fall at any cost. 

When needed, a destined hero is always awakened to restore the fallen kingdom; but the next one wasn't due for years to come and this destruction grew swift and furious. Everything I did to stop it only fueled it's relentless growth. If I could suspend the castle in time, the coming hero remained the only other soul who could wield the time crystal. She'd know what to do... 

 With any luck, the castle would freeze while I yet remained in tact. That way, I thought, when the hero arrives, she'll see my face and I'll be remembered. You'd be surprised how much memory can be stored in a face. The whole of Mithryndale, perhaps.

From my window I could see the cascading Rivers of Harmony thicken to a black muck, as the grasslands decayed to oblivion. The time to act was now. Goodbye, my love...

Eyes closing, the familiar golden light appeared like an orb around my clasped hands, humming with ethereal resonance. I would need to expand this light around the entire castle and then activate the time crystal, the most prized royal heirloom. Perched on top of a pedestal in the center of the room, the time crystal was like a tall cluster of galaxy-blue quartz. It glowed from within, illuminating its countless imperfections into intricate constellations.  

I walked there slowly, expanding my light with each careful step. This golden orb was the size of the room now. Soon, half the castle would be engulfed--the largest I've ever attempted. (Which was quite painful and I slept for hours afterwards, but no time for that now. 

Soon there would be no time at all…) 

Lightening struck the Hope Tree down in the royal garden when suddenly the tower door slammed open, sending large splinters flying past my head. My dome of light flickered as I startled. 

"Stop!" came a strong voice, then a tall figure in the doorway. Grimacing, I focused more energy into the expansion. The intruder, clad in a long dark cloak and spike-heeled boots, crossed the threshold with one hand brandishing a mighty silver axe. The other was reached back to draw a sword harnessed to their slender back. Face hidden within the dark hood, the only revealing marker was the long yellow braid falling out and down to their mounded chest.

No… it couldn't be…

"Prince Killan!" she cried, and the hood retreated like magic to reveal the very face I thought I'd never meet: Deliza, the next hero of prophecy. "You must not freeze the castle! This path is doomed!" 

She drew her sword and pointed it to the crystal; the sleek blade shone brighter than my golden power.  

I couldn't respond. The castle was nearly engulfed in my light, and the pain nearing intolerable. I focused harder as she crossed the room, claiming there was another way to save the kingdom. 

No, the only way.

Too withdrawn to stop her, Deliza grabbed the time crystal and tied it securely into a leather pouch.

"You're... e-early...." I managed through gritted teeth. 

"Prince, we must leave now. The portal is waning quick..."

When I let go, she gently caught my fainted collapse. I couldn't debate whether to trust her, at this point my unwavering faith in the hero of destiny was literally all I had left. 

The orb retracted back into me and I felt a bit restored, enough to stand. Deliza took my hand and we rushed down the tower to her portal. I didn't ask where it led. I'd find out soon, anyway. 

Outside, the darkness crept slowly in.

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Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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(My short story, painting by Patrick Jeremy McCollum)

     That Time We Drove Through New Mexico

     It took me an hour to realize we were completely lost, and it took Rick another to admit it. In our defense, driving through New Mexico was like one orange mesa after the next, and the tumbleweeds catapulting toward our pristine rental were rather distracting (to Rick at least, I was busy keeping score. It was worth ten points when one exploded in the grill, sending him into an acute tizzy.)

     Men are strange, I found, driving through a barren dessert with one. God… he was practically a stranger… but you know, young love…

     Finally, we pulled into a gas station on the left, leaving behind a cloud of red dust in Rick's furious and abrupt parking (he then panicked because he didn't realize it would do that.) We had lost signal a few miles past Roswell, and just prayed they might have internet here. At least then we could get our bearings, and Rick could obsessively detail the car after fueling up. It was half past noon, and blaring hot; and the huge white arrow out front promised ice cream and hot dogs.

     The store seemed smaller than it looked on the outside, but every nook and cranny crammed to the top with souvenirs, camping equipment and basic supplies. Rick argued with the attendant about the lack of WiFi, as I sauntered off towards the ice cream bar, a bit mortified to hear the older gentleman attendant ask,

     "You do have a map in your car, right?"

     Rick got very quiet and suddenly joined me for ice cream with a large state map tucked under an arm.

     "Have you seen this thing?" he asked, throwing it down on a small table to claim a spot (despite the empty store.) "I'm gonna need Google just to decipher it."

      I got two scoops of mint chocolate chip; Rick, a chili dog. He crinkled his nose in disgust before attempting a bite, and complained about the price of a soda. Rolling my eyes had become a regular thing since we started this trip, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. Rick was a good guy, definitely. But he nitpicked every little thing, and I swore if he said one more negative quip I would march straight out and kick the car.

     Then he did something cute, and I laughed and forgot what I was thinking about. We unfolded the map and after a few minutes failing to find our position on it, I volunteered to walk up to the attendant and ask him to mark the spot. The man's peppery moustache flopped with an obvious chuckle, but he was nice and drew a red circle around the gas station's icon; then Rick and I scoured the map for clues about where we turned wrong.

     With a fairly decent idea of where to go, we thanked the attendant and walked out to the car.

     Pink clouds rolled over the distant hills and the horizon looked like melted butter, reminding me that I never actually ate anything. Was the sun setting already? How long were we here? I tried to piece together all we had done since stopping in, but Rick began grumbling loudly about some scratches on the driver's tire rim-- until I walked over and rubbed it off with a bit of spit and elbow grease.

    He apologized and reminded me how stressed out he was, and of course I understood since we've now apparently lost half a day to a gas station. We agreed to just get on the road and to our next motel peacefully and as soon as possible.

     And then it happened, a sudden and bright flash of light-- brighter than the molten sun dropping to its Earthly grave. We were both halfway into the car and then drawn back out slowly, in pure awe (or terror, if there's a difference.) I'm telling you, the sky split right open. Like a lightning bolt tore straight through it and ripped it apart.

     -- "Are you sure?"

     --  "Well, no, that does sound a bit extreme, doesn't it?" I chuckle. "No, what we saw was a flying saucer. Yeah, it was metallic and so shiny it was almost invisible, but we could see it clear as day. It zipped up and down, and then out towards the nearest mesa. Hope it didn’t get lost." I chuckle again.

     -- "And then you spend the rest of your life searching for answers..."

     -- "Yes, That's right. I married Rick, go figure, and he raised two wonderful children while I pursued a doctorate in Biology. He was my rock." I feel like smiling, and I do, I think. My eyes are closed and I can't really feel my face.

     -- "And then you went on to become an astronaut, and a leading pioneer to the first Mars colony."

     -- "Yes, that's right. After what we saw, I never gave up the search for the beyond. Poor Rick never got to see me land on the red planet. He passed before I even accepted the mission." I am suddenly overwhelmed, as if a lifetime of love for a man is converging into this very moment, and only now can I truly mourn his loss. Plus, it turned out his retentive ways rubbed off on me, and AmazoNASA absolutely requires attention to detail. Now I feel like smiling again. Why can't I feel my face?

     -- "It's clear you are stirring awake, Julie. Go ahead and open your eyes."

     I do, and see that I am laying down on a white table. I wince in the flood of lights above me; but as my eyes adjust, the lights appear to be patterned like an intricate mandala. You know, like in one of those adult coloring books.

     "Where am I?" I ask, groggy and confused. I can only move my eyes, and whoever else is speaking is just out of sight.

     "You are here," they reply. Come to think of it, the voice sounds a lot like Rick's. "That’s all you must know for now. So please, let's continue. Tell me about when you got to Mars."

     "Well, it went better than expected, really. With the invention of nano-shielding, we were able to build quickly and safely. I had a hand in the bio-farms, studying microbes, and--- No! I'm not saying anymore until you tell me where I am and why I'm here!"

     "Oh, you silly, wonderful human. You've answered yourself in your very question. You are Here, of course. And as for the why…

     I feel a touch on my hand-- a soft caress across my thumb, just like Rick would. Suddenly the paralysis lifts and I sit up to face him. He looks young, like when we drove through New Mexico so long ago. Instantly, I know that "you're not him."

     "No, I'm not," he replies, smiling. "How very perceptive you are. I speak on behalf of a collective known as the Buh'ni. You, Julie, have been collected for replication."

    "Replication?" I echo with a gasp, unable to shake the idea that I'd been abducted by some alien race of humanoid bunnies for 'replication.' And you know what they say about rabbits…

     Not-Rick begins to adopt some rather bunny-like appearances. Once he notices the long floppy ears, he chuckles and caresses my hand under his fluffy chin.

     "No, I said the Buh'ni collective." He laughs merrily. "Though what you see here is due to a perception overlay, it's impossible for you to see me as I truly am."

     "And what do you want with me?" I ask, fully aware that I am either dreaming, accidentally tripping balls, or that I must have died in my sleep.

      "I daresay it’s the latter," bunny-Rick replied, "oh, sorry. You didn’t say that part out loud, did you?"

     Another gasp-- "So I'm dead?"

    "Oh yes, very much so. But rejoice! As I've said, you've been collected for replication. The collective is always on the hunt for unique leaders. We travel the spheres searching for people like you."

    "So, you're going to what, copy me? Upload me into some mechanical replica to live again?" I'm not exactly resistant to the idea of a new life…but I've seen all the movies, I know how this stuff goes.

     "Something like that," the man (or whatever) replies with a smile. He now is beginning to look like my father (or my brother, it's hard to tell.) "Our species knows the value of strong leadership, and we are open to all methods of retrieval. And when we don't find one, we farm them."

    "Farm them?" I ask, looking around for any exits, just in case.  It looks like your typical alien exam room, give or take a few probes and ray guns. There's a door over on my left, then a corridor leading away to the right and out of sight. But it's hard to trust anything I see. I mean, if this strange shapeshifting entity over here is just a visual overlay, how much of this room is an overlay as well?

    "Ah, no need to worry about that now," the entity replies with a firm wave of the hand. "Anyway, your physical body is expiring, along with its use. But in a way, you will be reborn and live forever as an honored citizen of my people. Now rejoice and be merry, for your resurrection is at hand!"

    I suddenly feel quite drowsy and lay back down. I can't go for the exit even if I want… the paralysis is returning, and it is getting hard to think clearly. "I don’t want to go back to sleep," I say, though this body seems to act otherwise.

    "I am so very sorry, Julie. But you must. Replication is a very long and intricate process, and we've merely begun. When you dream, know that you are being processed. And if you happen to wake up again, I'll tell you anything you'd like to know. Now before we part, do you have one last question?"

    It's even harder to think-- but as I drifted, the question came to me all on its own:

    "Yeah, I do. That time we drove through New Mexico. Is that really a memory, or just a dream?"

    "Yes. Now back to sleep, my child. And this time, I'll let you pick."  

                            **********************************

I awoke with a loud snort. It was near two a.m. according to the dashboard clock, and we pulled into the motel, relieved and exhausted. Rick thought the grubby fingerprints on the office door was a gloomy sign of the potential state of our room.

God, please let this trip be over soon. 

new mexico story.jpg

Edited by seeking_brilliance

Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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@Gregory1 over at my creative arts club on Facebook (link in my signature) we write stories and music to all member submitted paintings. This is the latest one I wrote and maybe it or another story or artwork in my club will inspire an improvisational piano piece. 

Art by Patrick J McCollum 

********************

The Lily Pond

I was half raised by that pond. Well, to be exact, grandma's house was directly in front of it; sitting on thirteen gorgeous acres within view of the Blue Ridges in Georgia. I spent the entire summer there, every year, until she passed away very suddenly when I was sixteen.

The house sold too quickly for one last visit, and my parents too wrapped up in their social-elitist lifestyles to care. When grandma passed it took a while to realize how truly alone I was; but when it hit me I dove my head into school and didn't come back up without a masters in architecture. The lily pond weaved into my dreams for years to come, and I made peace with the fact that I'd never see it or my grandmother again.

My parents always wished I'd end up rich--probably because as the years counted down, so did their income and savings. (I don't know, I didn't stick around to ask.) Not long after my thirty-second birthday, grandma's house was listed for sale. I payed well over the asking price and twenty eight days later here I am, standing at the same pond which taught me patience, reverence and admiration. 

Grandma's house is in shambles and I'll probably have to rebuild it from scratch. But that's ok, it was never about the house. We spent more time out here and in her garden. It's all just weeds and reeds where the roses once were, but I can almost see grandma bent over, snipping thorns on large crimson spotted bushes. 

Tomorrow I'll clear it out the best I can.

FB_IMG_1630448120494.jpg

Edited by seeking_brilliance

Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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6 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

@Gregory1 over at my creative arts club on Facebook (link in my signature) we write stories and music to all member submitted paintings. This is the latest one I wrote and maybe it or another story or artwork in my club will inspire an improvisational piano piece. 

********************

The Lily Pond

I was half raised on that pond. Well, to be exact, grandma's house was directly in front of it; sitting on thirteen gorgeous acres within view of the Blue Ridges in Georgia. I spent the entire summer there, every year, until she passed away very suddenly when I was sixteen.

The house sold too quickly for one last visit, and my parents too wrapped up in their social-elitist lifestyles to care. When grandma passed it took a while to realize how truly alone I was; but when it hit me I dove my head into school and didn't come back up without a masters in architecture. The lily pond weaved into my dreams for years to come, and I made peace with the fact that I'd never see it or my grandmother again.

My parents always wished I'd end up rich--probably because as the years counted down, so did their income and savings. (I don't know, I didn't stick around to ask.) Not long after my thirty-second birthday, grandma's house was listed for sale. I payed well over the asking price and twenty eight days later here I am, standing at the same pond which taught me patience, reverence and admiration. 

Grandma's house is in shambles and I'll probably have to rebuild it from scratch. But that's ok, it was never about the house. We spent more time out here and in her garden. It's all just weeds and reeds where the roses once were, but I can almost see grandma bent over, snipping thorns on large crimson spotted bushes. 

Tomorrow I'll clear it out the best I can.

FB_IMG_1630448120494.jpg

Beautiful story and painting, who does these paintings? I'll join the group;)


Please do not take anything I say as an insult. I have 17 warning points and I'd like to stay on this forum.

You are Love.

1 year meditation, 1 hour daily https://www.actualized.org/forum/topic/76489-1-year-meditation-1h-daily-start-at-100122/

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