I only rarely have nightmares. Apart from a restless night’s sleep after watching Night of the Living Dead, my nightmares only come in one flavor. Hallways. Endless hallways.

I’m at a gathering with a huge number of people, at a grand banquet or conference or party or something of that nature. The time comes to leave and I go, carrying an armload of stuff. I head down a familiar hallways, toward my car or the train or just home. I turn right. I turn left. Suddenly, I don’t know where I am.

The hallways are bright and full of life, with shops, restaurants and bars. There are lots of people I know and we seem to know where we are going. I turn right. I turn left. Up a few stairs. Down a ramp. I ask directions, head toward familiar sights. But I can’t get there. I shake my head and start down another hall.

The people I know seem uninterested in helping me find my way out. I grow cross, yell, shout and shove. No one really cares. I head down another hallway but it only leads to another unexplored path. I think I know where I’m going but I don’t. The things I’m carrying grow heavy. I sit for a while then get up to start fresh. Every hallway seems familiar but they don’t connect together the way I expect them to. So I turn right. I turn left. Another hallway. No help from anyone.

Eventually, I’m completely lost, wandering helplessly down a tile hall, stopping at a shop for a snack, taking a seat, falling asleep.

And awake.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in fiction, literature, personal, writing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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