Two Dreams – Dream Journal 2

The bedroom light is on low, and I read stories to a little girl I don’t know. She has her head nestled on my shoulder, and we are both happy. The bedroom door creaks open. Something catches my eye as it walks down the hallway, and I leave her to go outside, check on the kitchen. The stove is on, a flickering fire. I turn it off.

It turns into a repetitive dream. I read, set the book aside, tell the girl to hush and walk to to kitchen. The fire is on again, and there’s a creature sitting at the table watching me. It’s evil.

I run back to take the girl outside and give her to my mom in the garden. There’s a creature in the kitchen, and I scream at it and launch myself into… BATTLE! Except instead of fighting I’m praying it down. I wake up disoriented, screaming and with chills running up and down my spine.


R shaves his beard. He looks odd. We are at a party in someone’s house, and he leans over from behind the couch to kiss my ear. The gesture feels nostalgic, like it’s something he no longer does.We spend the rest of time looking for a bedroom.


I feel like the second dream is fairly straightforward.



Dream Journal – 1

Someone’s knocking, but I’m not afraid to answer the door. There’s a tea party in a garden, and I put my cloak on with a flourish, swirling it out. The fabric gleams.

It’s sunny outside, and I think my grandfather is nearby. The party feels lively, but old-fashioned. There’s a record player, and a frosted white buttercream cake with yellow sponge and pretty sugar flowers. I’m wearing a long dress under the cloak. My hands are not my hands — they are someone else’s fine-boned fingers and oval-shaped manicured nails. This fazes me not. I feel, as I step through the door, very loved.