Vivid Dreams and Twisted Perception

In this post, I’ll relate an unusual dreams, and include another installment of Twisted Perception. I believe the dreams that linger beyond our sleep are more than just a release of emotions or feelings. I call this one, The Devastated Conference.

I’m in a large hotel, attending a writers’ conference, and several of my friends and I have gathered in an atrium-like area near the lobby where a canopy of windows arches out from the main building. We are sitting in wicker chairs, watching the sky, which is becoming turbulent due to a thunderstorm, and the others are commenting on this, but laughing and having a good time. I seem to be the only one who is worried about the storm and my concern increases as I notice rotation of the clouds. I suspect the storm has escalated into a tornado, which will hit the hotel, so I stand and tell everyone that we should move away from the windows and go to the center of the lobby.

As soon as we reconvene in the lobby, the doors and windows of the hotel begin to shake and chaos breaks loose, with people screaming and running for their rooms. I see a brick alcove near the restaurant kitchen and, figuring this to be a place that would offer protection from falling debris, I take cover there.

A few minutes later, the winds calm and I step out of the alcove to find the hotel in utter devastation. All of the windows and doors have been blown away and large portions of the roof ripped off. Rain is pouring into the lobby. As I try to make my way to my room, I’m forced to climb over tree limbs and debris that block the stairway. At this point, I wake up.

Twisted Perception – Chapter One – Fourth serialized post

Michelle Baker felt the man’s warm breath fall across her face, and she thought it like the stale air that might be in a dark room where an electric chair was kept. He was going to kill her. She knew that. But it was not the details of her death that went through her head. She thought of her son, Michael. She could see him in the dirty little yard where he played, and she wondered if his diaper had been changed, and if he was hungry. She was not a good mother. She closed her eyes and prayed for God to forgive her for that, something she did quite often, though it did not show in her life. She regretted that now.

I realize this is a short post for the novel, but it’s the end of Chapter One. Next time I will begin with Chapter Two.

Thanks for reading. If you like my blog, please join as a follower. If you have any dreams, or anything else you’d like to talk about, send me an email at bob@bobavey.com