Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

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Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 12, 2010 7:05 am

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Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 12, 2010 7:05 am

Use the most ridiculous dream you can remember having and write a story that explains everything that happened in the dream. (i.e. I had a banana costume on because I’d been hired to advertise for a fruit smoothie stand.)

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby Twila Fern » Thu Oct 14, 2010 2:13 am

I have many dreams that still linger in my mind but this one tops them all. On the morning of September 22, 2008, I awoke with it still vivid in my mind and wrote it down right away.

The Dream

My car sped wildly up a mountainous road with no driver and with me in the back seat. Fear gripped my heart as I attempted to climb into the front but an unseen force held me back. I reached over the seat and grabbed the steering wheel hoping to steer to safety when a black cloud of dust engulfed the car as though it were night.

Blindly gripping the wheel, I felt the car veer off the pavement and scrape against something on the drivers side. I expected the car to hit a tree, wrap around a utility pole, or crash into the side of the mountain. I did not expect it to leave the pavement and travel through mid air before falling. It seemed to fall forever. My life did not flash before my eyes, as they say it does in the last moments before death. I recalled a scene from a movie where a car exploded into flames on impact at the bottom of a cliff. I was sure that was my fate.

To my surprise, the car landed, with a sudden jolt in a body of water, front end first and leveling off. I could see clearly now. My white knuckles still gripped the wheel as the water seeped into the sinking car. Still my life did not flash before me, only thoughts of survival. This time a clip from a TV show, how to survive crashing into water, reran in my head. Remembering the electric will work for approximately 10 minutes, I proceeded to climb into the front seat to press the window button when suddenly my eyes opened wide. I was at home safe in bed. It had all been a dream.

I felt cheated, like having to leave a cliffhanger movie before it ended. Did I manage to open the window? Did I climb out? Did I hold my breath long enough to swim to the top and breathe in life or did I breathe in water and die alone in that car? I will never know.

In the cold light of day, I pondered; was it just a dream or did it have meaning for me? Was the dream telling me ‘what ever will be will be’ no matter what I do, or was it encouraging me not to give up, no matter what the situation? Either way, it was a dream that remains vivid in my mind even to this day.

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RE: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby Isob » Fri Oct 15, 2010 12:27 am

This is probably not the most bizarre dream I have ever had but it was certainly the most frustrating!


Have to make the plane

Running. Running fast. Why am I running? I can’t catch my breath and my muscles feel like they are on fire. I still can’t explain the urgency I am feeling but I know I must get home. I’m straining to run harder with all by being but invisible forces are pulling me back. Everything is moving in slow motion. I cry out in desperate frustration.

Suddenly I’m home. Alone. Groping around in a dark cupboard for something. Reaching. A suitcase! Now I remember. Tickets! I’ve won tickets to New York. But I must leave now to make the plane. Rarely have I been overcome with such an utter sense of urgency, I feel sick with nerves and am struggling to breathe in my panic. Take a deep breath. Calm.

Flinging open the dark wooden doors of the old wardrobe I throw clothes into the open suitcase. Can’t find what I’m looking. I begin to feel once again the rising sense of panic. I open and shut draws frantically searching. I must find that jacket, the black one with the dark pink seams. Why I need it I don’t know but I have to find it. Searching, searching. Running out of time. There it is!

Suitcase packed. I’m ready. Quick, quick, I have to make the plane. Twenty minutes to go. I race up the stairs of my basement flat and burst through the door, out into the cold. Someone is waiting in a bright green van to drive me to the car park. Car park? Why is the plane in a car park? How will it take off without a runway? No time to think. No time. Must get to the plane.

Passport. No passport. Will they let me fly without it? It’s fine; it’s in the van. Why is it in the van? No time to think. Must get to the bank. Need money for the trip. I can’t remember the date. Can’t remember if I have been paid.

The bright green van is slow and bumpy. The green leather interior smells brand new but the tyres are flat. How could they forget to pump them up? 10 minutes to go. I have to make the plane.

Traffic. Crawling so very slowly up the hill. The car park is at the top. So steep. Too steep to walk. I picture myself trying and falling backwards. Falling. Too steep to walk. Did we stop at the bank? I can’t remember but I know I have money. I don’t know how. I just know.

In the mirror I see the driver. Bright green eyes just like the van. His hair is grey and wild. His face is crazed. Leaning far forward over the huge black steering wheel. Mouth wide open in a silent scream, exposing his sharp silver teeth. Saliva dripping down his chin. I can feel his anger at the traffic. 5 minutes to go. I can see the car park ahead. I can see the plane!

Struggling with the door. Help. I can’t get out of the van. Suddenly the lock releases and the door flies open. I tumble out onto the hard tarmac of the car park. Get up. Quick. Time is running out. Ticket and passport are in my hand. Blood is seeping from a deep gash. I’ll sort it later. I run toward the plane. The pilot stares at me then turns and starts climbing the stairs up to the cockpit. An airhostess taps her foot impatiently. I can hear the beat like a drum.

Suitcase. Where is my suitcase? Panic. I spin round; see the van speeding out of the car park. There. I see it about 5 metres away. Quick. No time left. I charge towards the suitcase. I can’t grip it. Why can’t I grip it? It’s in my hand. I’m ready.

Silence. I turn towards the plane. It’s gone. The plane is gone. The van is gone. The traffic is gone. The panic is gone.

The daylight fades rapidly as I stand alone in the empty car park.

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby jump_the_shark » Sat Oct 16, 2010 8:23 am

My Adoption Gone Wrong

Everyone has fled Earth and went into space--trading homes for glass spheres, and a lack of seasons.
Me and my husbands once attempted adopting space life--from the company S.L.A.C.--and soon after we figured out that it wasn't a good idea. His name was Angel but he was far from and he would wail at night like a banshee and spit fire at us.
So we made a plan and the next night we acted it out.
Angel wailed from beneath the surface of our aquatic dome. George and I had picked the island model. It was filled with water and had an island in the center.
We stuffed Angel in the basement and tried to ignore his cries. After dinner we lay out on the beach. The water was clear and blue. And suddenly the baby popped out flying around like some uber villain and breathing fire.

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby LittleEden » Sun Oct 17, 2010 7:20 am

They are not bizarre dreams but horrifying nightmares. I cannot tell you when they started but I can tell you the month and year they stopped. My first memory of waking in the middle of the night screaming was as a pre-teenager in the nineteen-fifties. They all ended at age thirty-three, in November 1975 when I moved from Dallas to a small town in north central Texas.

Each nightmare was different yet all were the same. I am always alone in my home, and somebody or something is trying to get in. I shut all doors and windows but there is always one door or window that I cannot close or lock. Before whatever it is gets in, I wake screaming.

I do not know why they started or why they ended much less what they meant. I thought about them often but never came up with an answer. All I know is whatever it was I left it behind when I moved

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby heathermoreland » Mon Oct 18, 2010 4:08 am

Don't you wish...

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby jaus tail » Tue Oct 19, 2010 4:36 am

Sitting in the train I leisure my time on my ipod. I look here and there for some funny travellers, no 2 yr old babies, no nagging wife, no passionate couple around. I decided to depend on my ipod until my eyes fall on an old man holding the handle with one wrinkled hand and a plastic bottle on the other. His narrowed eyes look for a place to sit, his weak legs can't take his skeletal body's weight. I ignore him but can't ignore the plight with which his shivering hand brings the bottle to his mouth, it's pouring out of his mouth, he can't hold it still.

I think of offering my seat, pack my ipod in my jacket. The middle aged jerk standing ahead smiles hoping to sit but I'll make sure the old man gets the comfort. No sooner do I get up does the next platform arrived, a herd of employees talking on their mobiles walk in, I sit back on my seat. I cant find the old man anywhere. The train starts again, maybe he got down, maybe he got a seat. I'm just relieved I don't have to see his suffering anymore but my relief grows to excitement...

Noxious perfume, high heels, black suit, I see a corporate raven in front of my eyes. Ipod out, guitar in, 'Jingle bell jingle bell jingle all the way' my voice spreads across the tired travellers. Some deride me, some get irritated, a few tap their feet but the raven ignores. With a grin I offer her my seat, with a sneer she politely refuses. My blond streaks, green eyes, lean 5'9 body, nothing was putting a smile on that plastic face and that made me more obstinate. I stopped entertaining the folks with my American Idol audition and kept staring at her until she walks a few steps away.

Jerks, brakes, loud rustic noise the train overspeeds. Panic in the compartment, lights go off. Cries go up in multiples of decibels. The train comes out of the tunnel and to my fear there's no one around. I turn back see the lady lying on the ground. Her slender legs, I look at her unconscious body. As I lean to breathe life in God's beautiful creation she opens her eyes, sending a chill down my spine until she gives her devilish smile

'Oh... yeah...' unclothed, wrapped in each other arms, our lust crossed all levels of emotions. I walk out of the train with my guitar and my confidence. Out my smile grows as I see 3 European tourists enter the same compartment. I decide to go back in the empty compartment and as I turn my head blood, gore, crushed bottle, broken specs I see the old man trembling on the door. He was probably down with the stampede. Shaken for 2 seconds 'HELP, SOMEBODY HELP ME' but the train moves ahead, taking the old man along with itself leaving me at the crowded platform. 'No wait' I run behind the train, muster all my strength, lengthen my leaps, stretch my hand just to get in the compartment. I plead the train to stop, but it doesn't, faster than ever it vrooms ahead.

Awake in the middle of the night, tears roll down my disappointed eyes. My search for a job seemed endless, my refuge in cigarette was unreasonable 'But I was tired, I was 26, a hardworking graduate. Why do immigrants come in my country?' Unfortunately this wasn't a reason for my father to still work in that car factory. I decide to try harder on my miniature biodata than on my 26 yr old face.

Anyone who reads kindly give me a genuine feedback. Request...

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Re: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby skutty » Thu Oct 21, 2010 2:12 pm

She stood at the bus stop with my younger brother. They weren't talking to each other, just standing next to each other. It is the beginning of windy season in Kerala, the fine red dust danced in the air occasionally. I saw her looking down when her gaze met with my brother’s, he seemed annoyed and ashamed of her presence. Or may be he was simply uncomfortable. She was determined though, stood next to him for what seemed like eternity, bearing the awkwardness. He is her favorite son, youngest one, and he is going back to the city where people talk seriously about important matters in English, which the villager mother is not capable of understanding. In her eyes, is the longing for a friendly face, kind words, accepting gaze. She yearned for the days when she lived with her parents and siblings and life was happy. The day she got married, she lost all of that; her father would not accept a glass of water from her anymore because she belongs to her husband and his family. Even her children did not seem to consider her worthy.

The bus came roaring, followed closely by a cloud of sand. She had to wrap her saree around her face and nose, so she could remain standing until her son got inside, found a seat near the front where she knew the sandal wood sticks will bother him soon. She imagined him writing off the entire trip home as a big mistake, and she wished he would not. He did not turn around to wave her good bye, and she did not expect it either. She stood there and watched until the bus turned the corner and disappeared abruptly.

She looked back at the house, the fresh braided coconut leaves on the roof seemed unbearably cheerful to her. She turned away and sat under the olive tree at the far end of the lot; the purple fruits were scattered around on the ground. She popped one in her mouth, bite through the bitter skin and relished the sour flesh, and waited for the sweetness. This is her favorite tree and she used to spend time here soon after her marriage, when life inside seemed unbearable. People weren't mean to her, but she simply wasn't one of them; she was the daughter in law came in to the house in the arranged marriage.

She noticed cigarette butts and match sticks, lately she had smelled smoke when her son came home from outside. She didn't question it though, she assumed working in the city now her son will have to accommodate to the culture. But she did not want anyone in the village to see it. She picked up all the cigarette butts and threw them in the rat holes. Rats have been making large intricate tunnels this year, she assumed due to the lack of snakes, her husband has taken a very harsh approach toward them this year. She lit a match and threw it into the pile, she imagined rats getting hyper smoking the cigarettes and running around in their tunnel system, may be confused, may be getting lost.

The olive tree and the space at the far end of the lot wasn’t comforting her any longer. She grabbed the end of her saree which has been unruly in the wind and walked back home. Entering the house she noticed the little flames peeking out of the mud floor. Oh no, she thought, the rat tunnels were more intricate and far reaching than she imagined and they are right underneath the house. She saw her husband and daughter working hard, desperately trying to put out the flames. She met eyes with her husband and she knew that he knew, there was no mistaking of his anger toward her. Her daughter commanded her to grab a bucket, and she could see her disappointment; she probably wasn’t moving quick enough, she was absent when the fire started, who knows – there was so many things that her daughter disapproved in her. She grabbed a mug and poured some water onto the fire, which is spreading through the ground quickly. The end of saree caught fire, and she could not think of what to do. Her husband and daughter dabbed on it hard enough, and frantically that it died down. She was afraid to look at her daughter, she had caused her delicate hands to burn; she could see the fury in her eyes, the height of disappointment even without looking at her daughter. She fetched another mug of water, and she couldn’t tell how, but her saree caught fire again. She watched her daughter struggling with the fire on one side, her husband next to her, and herself in the fire. She stood there, not wanting to interrupt, not wanting to move. Something caused her daughter to turn around and together they ran toward her, pushing her down on the floor, covering her with the wet sack. They did not wait for her to get up though before they went back to work. She couldn’t help it, she moved closer and closer to the fire and till her saree was in flames again. Her daughter came over and slapped her across the face, and she smiled. She wasn’t afraid of the fire any more, she felt invited, she felt soothing. Soon the roof was on fire and everyone was rushing out, urging her to get out as well. But she stood there, somehow she found the courage to ignore her husband’s commands.

Standing at a distance, away from the fire that is continuing its dance with the wind, I watched the roof collapse, the walls made of bricks I helped my mother bake was exploding and scattering all around her. I tried to see a movement, but it was just a blob of indistinguishable flame.

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RE: Explain Your Most Bizarre Dream - 10/12

Postby Gladys » Sat Oct 23, 2010 8:38 am

It was many years ago that I had my most Bizarre dream. I was in a padded cell. Not a mental hospital cell but a cell none the less. Friends, my father who had died, my mother and sisters, nieces and nephews could come and visit me, I had everything I wanted or could need but was not allowed out of the cell.
I had this dream many times over a period of months until I remembered having it one morning when I woke. It bothered me for quite a while then someone mentioned that I seemed to be a prisoner of my life. Okay that explained it, I was a prisoner, not able to go or do what I wanted in the outside world but if anyone wanted they could come to the house and visit me. My husband was very controlling but I didn't understand that for many years. I had everything I wanted or needed as long as I didn't go out without him holding the leash.


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