Don’t you just love those wonderful dreams that make you wish you could go back to sleep and continue? You’ve found the love of your life, or you’re in the best place, having the most fun you’ve ever had. You wake up to the alarm and think, “Noooo. Why now?” So you hit the snooze button and sometimes, just sometimes, you’ll return to where you left off.
Then, there are the ones you’re grateful you woke up from. You don’t want to go back to sleep because sometimes, just sometimes, you’ll return to that terrifying or sad dream state.
These latter are the ones I often dream over and over again. Recurring dreams have been the better part of my reality for most of my life. I spent years fighting nightly within the walls of an elevator that had a mind of its own. The doors would open between floors, giving me a glimpse of the dirty, dark maw of the elevator shaft, and then they would close, but not all the way, as it began to move again at terrifying speed up, down, sideways, and diagonally. I’ve never been stuck in an elevator in real life (touch wood), and I don’t think I’d be particularly afraid if I was. As long as the lights were on and the doors didn’t open between floors. I’m happier not knowing what’s on the other side, thanks.
I wrote an entire novel about it, in hopes of getting the dream out of my system. Trixie in a Box was my first novel. It’s not published yet; it only needs to be edited. It’s the story of a woman who gets stuck in a pitch-black (but stationary) elevator in her office building over a long weekend. No one in her family notices she’s missing since they’re going through an extraordinary amount of drama of their own. It worked, by the way: I stopped having my elevator dreams shortly after I wrote “The End.”
While I hope that particular dream won’t come true, I have had one that did. It involved being lost in the hallways of a school. Though the school in my dream was my old high school, the reality came to be when I took a college course, years after the dream began. The dream hasn’t recurred since, but I was blown away when it happened. Totally a deja vu moment–I often wonder if those are dreams I’ve forgotten I had.
My most recent recurring dream is about buying a house that’s so big, there are rooms I never go into. Big, beautiful rooms with stunning views from massive picture windows. Rooms I could write in. That I could daydream in.
I hope that one comes true.
Linda G. Hill is a stay-at-home mom of three boys and the guardian of one beagle and two kitties. She concocts tales in her head 24/7 and blogs almost daily at lindaghill.com. Author of the award-winning book, The Magician’s Curse, Linda’s newest release, The Magician’s Blood,is the second in her Gothic paranormal romance series. Also available on Amazon and Kobo is her romantic comedy novelette, All Good Stories. She lives in Southern Ontario, Canada.
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