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*Note: This was an actual dream I had. I recorded it with as many details as I could remember. This is a minimally modified version of the dream converted into a short story for my creative writing class.
I turned a chair in the dining room to look at the sky and sat down. My best friend Wendy had joined me at my house to watch the forecasted thunderstorm. We waited and waited until finally we saw clouds approaching from the west. They were massive, dark gray clouds that barely seemed to reflect light. Within minutes, they blocked the afternoon sun, and soon the entire house was engulfed in shadow darker than night.
Any normal people would have panicked, but Wendy and I waited curiously, anxiously. This was hardly a natural phenomenon, and we were soaking in every second of it. Finally, the clouds dispersed, practically vanishing, to reveal a brightly lit day.
We squinted, having to adjust to the sudden light. Looking out, the sun’s position had changed. It was midday, according to the shadows, and not a cloud remained in the sky. Rising from my seat, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the deck. Something in the west flicked across the corner of my vision. Looking out past the side of the awning I saw a gray dragon soaring through the sky. Farther to the south I saw another dragon. I hurried inside and called for Wendy. She rushed outside and smiled at the sight.
Pointing to the gray dragon, Wendy said a strange name that I couldn’t pronounce. She did the same with the other dragon. After spotting a third, she named that one as well, mentioning that it was considerably less powerful than the other two. This orange dragon, dubbed weak, flew closer. It had a long body and scales that were almost gold in the light. The beast fluttered to the deck, perching its front legs on the railing and craning its long neck toward us.
Wendy extended her hand and ran it over the dragon’s face. It closed its eyes in happiness, leaning slightly against her touch. “He’s so young,” Wendy cooed. “Come touch him,” she invited. “We can call him Falcor, because he looks like the luck dragon from that movie.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” I agreed, moving closer to the head that was almost as long as I was tall. A grin of childish wonder and excitement spread over my lips as I touched the smooth scales. The young dragon looked at me with its large, intelligent eyes.
“We should probably go back inside,” declared Wendy.
“Yeah.”
As we walked to the door, Falcor moved closer. His snout nearly went through the door until Wendy pushed against him. “You can’t come in Falcor, you’re too big.”
“He likes you,” I laughed, teasing.
Wendy struggled against Falcor for a few minutes until the young dragon finally gave in and backed away. I watched as he crawled off the deck and flew away to the west.
Looking down from the sky, I saw the most peculiar trees just on the other side of the fence that enclosed my back yard. They had no leaves, and the bark had thick stripes of bright color, forming rainbows, as if someone had painted it.
“Wendy,” I muttered, lightly tapping her arm. “Look at the rainbow trees.”
Wendy slowly gasped.
We looked to each other simultaneously. “Wendy,” I breathed. She nodded just slightly. “Are we… going back?”
Wendy’s eyes and smile widened as she nodded. I gave a cry of joy and threw my arms around her with tears in my eyes. Finally, after eighteen years in a different body on a different world, we were returning to our homeland.
When I looked out again, the trees were gone, and my neighbor’s yard had turned into our friend’s garden. I recognized it as so from the painted wooden figures and the hand-made stream.
“Takora’s garden!” I exclaimed. “I wonder if she’s there? Let’s go find out!”
Wendy caught my arm as I moved toward the door. “Wait,” she insisted. “It’s probably not a good idea to go outside while things are shifting this quickly.”
“Good point,” I admitted.
As if those were the magic words, a violent wind began to swirl around the house, and a sort of film seemed to cover the space of the open door like a barrier. When the current ceased, I looked outside. The awning and deck were gone, and so was everything else I’d just seen. We leaned out the door with massive curiosity.
Nearly a hundred feet below was a lake with dark blue water. A few people were swimming, and some were enjoying the shoreline. Those at the shore looked up to us and waved.
“Come swim with us,” one of them called.
Wendy and I looked each other with huge smiles.
“Cannonball!” she screamed, jumping away from the house.
Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks as I looked over the scenery. “Finally,” I whispered to myself. Looking up, I saw a being with feathered wings flying over the lake. My mind began to race, playing my favorite song to me. Could I fly? Was the transfer far enough along to allow such a glorious thing? There was only one way to find out.
I backed up slowly, my heart pounding, staring at the open space in front of me. With a deep breath and no reservations, I ran as fast as I could toward the door and leaped out. Hearing fabric tear, my body jerked from the sudden forced that stopped my inertia. Silver hair fell over my shoulders and white feathers flashed in and out of my vision as I hung in the air. Feeling the power well up inside of me that I had longed to feel for eighteen years, I spread my wings, and I soared.
Another note: A large part of Oblitus Amoris is based in this dream. The actual story came into being after being inspired by a dream I had in middle school, and others since then have only added to its evolution.
I turned a chair in the dining room to look at the sky and sat down. My best friend Wendy had joined me at my house to watch the forecasted thunderstorm. We waited and waited until finally we saw clouds approaching from the west. They were massive, dark gray clouds that barely seemed to reflect light. Within minutes, they blocked the afternoon sun, and soon the entire house was engulfed in shadow darker than night.
Any normal people would have panicked, but Wendy and I waited curiously, anxiously. This was hardly a natural phenomenon, and we were soaking in every second of it. Finally, the clouds dispersed, practically vanishing, to reveal a brightly lit day.
We squinted, having to adjust to the sudden light. Looking out, the sun’s position had changed. It was midday, according to the shadows, and not a cloud remained in the sky. Rising from my seat, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the deck. Something in the west flicked across the corner of my vision. Looking out past the side of the awning I saw a gray dragon soaring through the sky. Farther to the south I saw another dragon. I hurried inside and called for Wendy. She rushed outside and smiled at the sight.
Pointing to the gray dragon, Wendy said a strange name that I couldn’t pronounce. She did the same with the other dragon. After spotting a third, she named that one as well, mentioning that it was considerably less powerful than the other two. This orange dragon, dubbed weak, flew closer. It had a long body and scales that were almost gold in the light. The beast fluttered to the deck, perching its front legs on the railing and craning its long neck toward us.
Wendy extended her hand and ran it over the dragon’s face. It closed its eyes in happiness, leaning slightly against her touch. “He’s so young,” Wendy cooed. “Come touch him,” she invited. “We can call him Falcor, because he looks like the luck dragon from that movie.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” I agreed, moving closer to the head that was almost as long as I was tall. A grin of childish wonder and excitement spread over my lips as I touched the smooth scales. The young dragon looked at me with its large, intelligent eyes.
“We should probably go back inside,” declared Wendy.
“Yeah.”
As we walked to the door, Falcor moved closer. His snout nearly went through the door until Wendy pushed against him. “You can’t come in Falcor, you’re too big.”
“He likes you,” I laughed, teasing.
Wendy struggled against Falcor for a few minutes until the young dragon finally gave in and backed away. I watched as he crawled off the deck and flew away to the west.
Looking down from the sky, I saw the most peculiar trees just on the other side of the fence that enclosed my back yard. They had no leaves, and the bark had thick stripes of bright color, forming rainbows, as if someone had painted it.
“Wendy,” I muttered, lightly tapping her arm. “Look at the rainbow trees.”
Wendy slowly gasped.
We looked to each other simultaneously. “Wendy,” I breathed. She nodded just slightly. “Are we… going back?”
Wendy’s eyes and smile widened as she nodded. I gave a cry of joy and threw my arms around her with tears in my eyes. Finally, after eighteen years in a different body on a different world, we were returning to our homeland.
When I looked out again, the trees were gone, and my neighbor’s yard had turned into our friend’s garden. I recognized it as so from the painted wooden figures and the hand-made stream.
“Takora’s garden!” I exclaimed. “I wonder if she’s there? Let’s go find out!”
Wendy caught my arm as I moved toward the door. “Wait,” she insisted. “It’s probably not a good idea to go outside while things are shifting this quickly.”
“Good point,” I admitted.
As if those were the magic words, a violent wind began to swirl around the house, and a sort of film seemed to cover the space of the open door like a barrier. When the current ceased, I looked outside. The awning and deck were gone, and so was everything else I’d just seen. We leaned out the door with massive curiosity.
Nearly a hundred feet below was a lake with dark blue water. A few people were swimming, and some were enjoying the shoreline. Those at the shore looked up to us and waved.
“Come swim with us,” one of them called.
Wendy and I looked each other with huge smiles.
“Cannonball!” she screamed, jumping away from the house.
Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks as I looked over the scenery. “Finally,” I whispered to myself. Looking up, I saw a being with feathered wings flying over the lake. My mind began to race, playing my favorite song to me. Could I fly? Was the transfer far enough along to allow such a glorious thing? There was only one way to find out.
I backed up slowly, my heart pounding, staring at the open space in front of me. With a deep breath and no reservations, I ran as fast as I could toward the door and leaped out. Hearing fabric tear, my body jerked from the sudden forced that stopped my inertia. Silver hair fell over my shoulders and white feathers flashed in and out of my vision as I hung in the air. Feeling the power well up inside of me that I had longed to feel for eighteen years, I spread my wings, and I soared.
Another note: A large part of Oblitus Amoris is based in this dream. The actual story came into being after being inspired by a dream I had in middle school, and others since then have only added to its evolution.
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