Flash Fiction! Dreams


In this segment of our flash stories, storeadtimefloats and explores a more technical read. It is titled dreams and, dedicated to the youth of all time and clime of the world still trying assiduously to find their place. Maybe, why people sometimes fail is not lack of talent, vision or discipline forthwith; obviously there are platoons of them. But for some tinge of frustration that depress and dampen them. Let this piece be an encouragement you gift someone today because their dreams are coming back, alive! Enjoy!  

Nobody tells you about their dream! Not even when everybody around you is dreaming. You only see their dreams come real. Now, you want to dream as always, but you do not know if to close an eye or both, to close light or tight even. Maybe you had not slept the depth to dream as such or the dreams to dream are not born yet, you resolved. Notwithstanding, when you sleep you feign to dream, the type that leaves you smiling, beaming your fermenting whites. One thing you’ve noticed about it all is that people’s dream moved them places; like Ruth, Bob, the numbers keep tolling. But you wake up to a standstill. It was not even real sleep, you noticed. It was how badly you wanted to dream. Then your eyelids clasp down like darkness invades your eye in sleep. Troubled, you begin to listen to yourself, a hunt on the inside.
After a heavy day you sleep, you finally dream. You see things you would not have ordinarily imagined, it was one breeding and, the other famished without vestiges. You run an inquiry test, though not like the formal class your dad runs down the road. You begin your thorough digging, determined. You still do not know what it is called, no matter how well you pour yourself out in explanation. They tell you it was your ambitions that were famishing, something was eating them fat and fluffing convulsively like your heart rate. Now you feel yourself as your dreams and that malignant sneak or anything gulping you from under; your heels, to the knee then your trunk. That thing people you had asked called frustration. You wonder what your ambitions look like in dream and what became of them when eaten. They die and vanish! You do not agree but lie on your hope that they come back to you someday, alive.


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