Dreaming Away The Afternoon (724 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.88 on 37 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by shadow (View user info) at 2008-07-21 17:02:37 EDT
I've just woken up from a fever-dream, a nightmare with wild dark-blue seas crested in foaming white, littered with rotten wood. I hope there were pirates.
I stumble out of bed and onto the floor, which is my regular morning custom. Wiping beads of sweat from my forehead, I wander out into the apartment. The Violinist is practicing in the nude, she plays a sweet low piece that sounds like Vivaldi. Her enormous- and natural- triple Ds jiggle lightly on the arpeggio and I can't help but stare. She smiles at me, letting the purple electric violin lean down and away from her, and I mumble something inane about the audio failing on the computer again. She laughs and says she'll check it after her shower.
There's a wasp in my bathroom. An ugly bow-legged reddish brown monster with a long pointed stinger. Once I'm done my business, I wash my hands and leave, very slowly, so as not to draw his attention. It's too late, and the little bastard begins stalking me around the flat. I have no choice but to retreat to my bedroom and shut the door for safety.
The Violinist's cat is hiding in my room, riffling through my dirty laundry for the softest, best-smelling shirts. Once she realizes that we're both trapped inside, she decides that the only reasonable course of action is to step all over my squishy bits. I've had quite enough when her paw nicks a nipple, and I toss her gently out of the bedroom. Fortunately, the wasp has moved on.
"Aww, miss kitty is just trying to love you!" The Violinist calls down the hall.
"Sometimes 'love' means letting go." I shut the door.
A dream; pearl-white sand shimmering in the noonday heat. A merciful breeze blowing from the north where the waters are cooler. My eyes sting a little with the brightness of the sun and the salt of the sea hanging on the air. In the distance, the ocean is a perfect azure blue rounding off beyond the reach of sight. It is exhilarating, and my nerves are set high-
"shadow?" I groan. "shadow? Are you awake?"
"Yes." I grumble through the door.
"Do you want some leftovers?" I lift my head from the bed and stare at the door. Were it not for the three-quarters of an inch of wood between us, my eyes would bore holes into the Violinist's head. But then, she is just trying to be sweet.
"No thank you." I pull the pillow up and shove it down on my ear.
Another dream; the grass is so green, I can't remember having seen grass like this before. A verdant field stretches out to the distance, cut every now and then by a long line of stone piles creating a solid fence. The rolling green meets its terminus at the apex of a round hill, there the color is swallowed under the approach of a pale gray mist. A fog is gently rolling into the valley, and I've got to get the horses inside the nearest fence before I can't see anything at all, especially that dappled gray mare, she'll be lost under the-
"shadow?" The Guitarist is standing outside my door.
"No no, dear, shadow's sleeping." The Violinist gently scolds him, pulling him back down the hallway toward the living room.
"But I need to ask about the furniture..." I shake my head, checking the time, before setting myself back down.
Dream dream dream...
My armor was once brilliant, and shone silver in the light. In those days it was for naught but ceremony; those days seem so far gone. Now the suit is beaten and tarnished, stained with blood and pitted in black. I sigh, deep and heavily, wishing for but one day of reprieve that I might give it a well deserved polish. My sword has fared better, though this is in part due to my abuse of the enemy's weapons; why dirty your own blade when you can steal theirs? My sister ran a measure of dark blue silk through the joints and fittings of the armor, she swears it will protect me better than the studs and clasps once did. She has read the books of great warriors, and she knows strategy. She knows politics, and she knows diplomacy. I envy her, more than a little; if I had been a better scholar I might not be here now, but at least I had her to learn from and the guile to put it to use. Were it not for merciful Athena-
"I can't believe shadow's still sleeping, the day's half done."
"Leave it alone, we'll take care of it later." The voices are distant and vague, like an echo.
The pounding hoof beats jar every inch of my body, and it's all I can do to keep on my feet. Sensai told me not to kill the horses, for they are noble and unwittingly put to war; and they are a boon in combat for a dead horse provides shelter from swords and arrows, a live horse without a rider is a curse of panic in the enemy's ranks. I can hardly see a thing in the rising dust; the silhouettes of demons charging toward me, and I fear I will be trampled before I have a chance to strike-
"What's that? It looks like a centipede. A really BIG centipede. A really big centipede with horns! You should ask shadow what it is."
"Why don't we just check the internet, hmm?"
My skin feels strange, itchy and oily. Oh, I see; it's because I've been painted. How bizarre. I stand at the gateway, to what I don't know; all I know is that I would very much like to get through. There is a Sphinx guarding the path, and she eyes me with enormous black irises, her large pointed ears twitched excitedly as a feline who spots a mouse. Golden fur covers her body, half cat, half woman. It seems very sexual, and I feel a little confused by the whole affair. She opens her mouth, and a perfect row of cat-sharp teeth twinkle down at me, and I know that if I don't answer her the way she likes, those teeth will soon be bathed in warm blood and painted flesh.
"You will tell me what I am?" She asks, and I nod, dumbly. "I am the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space; the beginning of every end, and the end of every place." The air around me feels thin, and I find it hard to take a proper breath. I lick my parched lips, tasting the salty metallic flavor of blood from the dry cracks. Her nostrils flare, she is about to pounce.
"I believe you are the letter E," I begin, and she raises her eyebrow, "but I think the better riddle is: how did a Sphinx learn English?" She laughs, and I feel safe, for the moment....
"shadow, dear, it's time to wake up." Am I dreaming? It sounds like my mother waking me up for school. "shadow, I've got strawberries." It's the Violinist, tempting me from bed with the promise of summer fruit. Ah well, I suppose a taste of reality couldn't hurt...
User Reviews
Submitted by nargles (user info) at 2008-10-09 19:02:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i don't get dreams like these, and if i did i'd just forget them in the morning anyway. its really a strange experience that we take for granted. i wonder what happens to person if they stopped dreaming altogether.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:43:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, and the Violinist practices in the nude because she's just that kind of free spirit.
And it was very warm. Though honestly, I don't think she'd wear clothes if she didn't have to. Except to festivals, she likes playing dress up.
Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:42:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
OH YEAH WELL YOU'RE A JERK
AND FAT
AND UGLY
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:34:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Not my fault you need to "know things" and let other people know you "know things" in order to boost your self esteem, Nancy!
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:27:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish my dreams were this vivid.
Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:15:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Dear Method,
What is a 'frankthebear' and what is "D&D"? Rhetorical. I mentioned it because shadow made specific mention of the thickness. Had the story said something like "Were it not for the thickness of the wood between us..." I wouldn't have mentioned it but if an author wants to be specific and I can help them with the technicalities I will. In short kindly resume your back-waxing/feta-eating and smile and breath.
Thank you,
MuddyWhistles, Inc.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:13:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hahaha shutup dick
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:11:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Level 39 Dark Mage with +5 Onyx-banded Plate Mail armor below.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:02:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Mudwhistle talking about the technicalities of door thickness is like Frankthebear talking about the rules of D&D
In either case, STFU please, kthx
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 10:00:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Mr MudWhistle, I think you may be correct.
oops.
Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:58:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this but technically speaking you wouldn't have a full size 3/4" door for multiple reasons. Interior doors are usually (without being custom) 1 3/8", 1 1/2", 1 3/4" and 2 1/4". I suppose it's possible if you're talking about a solid wood door with a recessed panel that was 3/4" thick but then it would have to have a pretty substantial (I'm talking like 8-10" or more) frame to it and that might look odd.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:56:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
SWEET! Fisticuffs, all the way!
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:45:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ah! Lovely!
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:43:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I just threatened to fight him to the death for Firefly's honor, you're invited, pistols or fisticuffs at dawn, his choice.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:37:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Uh.... lemme get back to you on that.
But you should always harass Razor, that's just good fun!
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 09:18:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Do you have some sort of email list that will keep me "tuned", or do I have to keep harassing Razor every other week?
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 08:55:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Method, stay tuned: if everything goes according to plan you'll get the chance.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-22 08:55:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-07-22 06:11:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Why does the violinist practice in the nude? Oh well, nowt so queer as folk as they say.
So if she's the violinist and the other fellow is the early bird guitarist, what are you?
_______
I'm the writer, of course.
And I'm told I'll be singing. We'll see how that goes.
I do play guitar, just not nearly as well as the Guitarist, also know as the Commodore.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-07-22 08:47:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If you were a published author, I would devour your verbal vomit
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-07-22 08:37:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-07-22 07:38:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Not my kind of thing, but I really enjoyed this.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-07-22 06:11:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Why does the violinist practice in the nude? Oh well, nowt so queer as folk as they say.
So if she's the violinist and the other fellow is the early bird guitarist, what are you?
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-22 05:41:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by BurtBurt (user info) at 2008-07-22 04:21:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Desz (user info) at 2008-07-21 21:10:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2008-07-21 19:02:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ahh, ok. Just making sure it wasn't some sort of Magic Eye thing that I was just totally missing out on.
That happens a lot.
Submitted by TBILLZ (user info) at 2008-07-21 18:43:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Started strongly but got boring. Good word choice.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-21 18:43:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I don't think the painting itself is very scary on its own, but I imagine if I looked at it every night before bed it would completely occupy my thoughts, and take over my dreams; nevermore would I dream of cityscapes filled with bustling humans, I would only dream of the wild places only barely tamed by the savages I call ancestors.
Or it could just be that deep down, I'm a little nuts, and the fear of falling into a painting is utterly irrational.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2008-07-21 18:28:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I usually don't really like present-tense first person, but this was interesting.
On a side note, and please forgive me for being brutishly insensitive and ignorant, but what is so creepy/scary about that painting? I like it, I just don't see anything that looks very sleep-retardant. Explanations, anyone?
Submitted by devildog (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:50:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/117295#2731256
Submitted by tloshjohnson (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:22:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
doofus below.
Submitted by Banjo (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:21:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
liking as always.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:11:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I like it, but if I had a proper print I'd have no idea where to put it... I certainly couldn't have it where I sleep...
Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:09:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I first saw this painting in art school a few years back. I don't think any other picture has ever scared me so much.
Submitted by Yozz (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:06:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:04:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
why thankyou shadow
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-07-21 17:03:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Oh crud, that's huge.