Write about a dream you remember.
It’s so rare for me to remember my dreams. And then if I do happen to recall them when I wake up, they don’t stay in my conscious memory for long.
I can remember a terrifying snippet of a dream I’ve had since childhood: I’m being chased by a never-seen man with murderous intentions, and my inevitable inability to run, as if my limbs are too heavy to move. That one sucks.
I consider myself lucky I’ve never had a falling dream. I don’t think I’d like that, given my experience skydiving.
And with slightly blushed cheeks, I’ve had a handful of sexy dreams that still manage to live rent-free in my mind. But, no, dear Reader. I’m not sharing any of those scenes with you.
I went to bed yesterday knowing that this was going to be today’s prompt, which most likely influenced my ability to remember my dream. It wasn’t very interesting, so I apologize in advance if you were hoping for something with more of a plot.
It felt like I was in a high school gym, although I couldn’t tell you who was there with me, if anyone at all. I didn’t feel alone, but I also don’t remember seeing anyone. I left through the double-doors, and then found myself in an empty lounge area. Or maybe it was the waiting area of an Olive Garden. I have no idea. All I do know, is that I was the only one there, and it was quiet. There was a black and red basketball on the reception/host counter, and I don’t know why, but I picked it up. Holding it in my hands, I saw that it had a signature on it. (Clearly it was by someone important!) Then a work colleague, who’s currently on sabbatical, magically appeared at the door, and she was standing there, shaking her head in disapproval. Apparently, she could read my mind that I wanted to dribble the ball, but since it was autographed, that would be inappropriate.
And then I woke up, feeling a tiny bit of shame. But, at least I had a dream I could remember, and would be able to answer today’s prompt.