Longleaf Stories

full circle in the hundred acre wood

So why was a 60 horsepower diesel tractor in our bedroom last night and why did I start it up (mum mum mum mum mum mum-mum low rumble), drive it through an improbably wide hall, and take out a metal and glass pole lamp with a wrought metal bird’s head at eye level, all while wearing a clingy black dress and high heels?

This, dear readers, is what makes dreams so compelling and — quite often — fun.

But dreams are evanescent. They get away from us quickly unless we consciously hold on to the disappearing image, grab a pen and write it down  — or type as I’m doing right now, before my (gasp) first sip of coffee.

I had a dream a week or so ago that I meant to write down. It was so interesting. At least I staggered out of bed, found a pen, and dashed off the stream of conscious words that streamed out of my barely awake brain.

Here’s what I wrote:

a path with sand spurs

told Buck I was’t wearing the right shoes for this

people upside down in cars, blood trickles, laughed like I was the crazy one when I asked what I could do

puppies and fat children in beds

role-playing by Rotarians


lost my shoes, my phone, my camera

couldn’t find Buck

walked back — seems like I drove some odd vehicle part of the way



tried to find . . .

Okay, so even though I wrote these word scraps down, in the light of day a week or later I can’t make head nor tail of what was going on in this dream. It is just gone, baby, gone.

How about you? Do you remember your dreams? Do you even want to? Are they scary or do they make you laugh?


Daily Word Prompt: Gone

4 thoughts on “Evanescence of Dreams

  1. dclaud says:

    What on earth did you eat for supper or for a midnight snack. I want to try to have dreams like that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Beth says:

      Sorta sounds like I might have been eating Peruvian pepper jelly, no?


  2. phil2bin says:

    Seldom – as in, once a year – remember a dream. When it happens, I’m kind of in awe at what my brain has done.


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