April 1, 2012

Short Story Training #1: David's Dream Story

I've been writing more and more lately, trying to improve by writing as many different types of things as I can. So far I've written two short stories. The following is a short story that I wrote in the summer based on a friend's dream. It's very difficult to write something like that because I wanted to maintain enough of it so that it was still based on his dream while adding my own personal touches to it all. In the end, I think I got a result that was significantly different from what he actually dreamed but that fits what I wanted to do with the story quite nicely. At any rate, it's really the first legitimate short story I've ever written so I thought I would post it and the others that I end up writing to this blog so we can observe how I make progress and improve. Hell, maybe I'll find the genre I want to write in! Anyway, here it is! Enjoy!




            I awoke in a strange room. Unfamiliar sights greeted me as I opened my eyes. In my groggy state I noticed a white ceiling, patterns like waves etched into its paint. Turning my head I saw a nightstand made out of rich wood. Probably mahogany. The rest of the fixtures matched the nightstand from the bed to the large closet in the corner of the room.
            I rose and made my way to the thick curtains hanging over a window at the side of the room. Seeking any way to gain more information about my surroundings I pulled them and revealed the harsh light of day. The sun was bright and luminous, nearly at its zenith. The light was harsh on my eyes, only freshly opened and accustomed to the darkness inherent in sleep. I jerked my head away sharply, recoiling from the light as a vampire might.
            It was then that I noticed that I was already dressed. Inspecting myself, I found that I wore my best dress shirt with black trousers to match, all perfectly tailored and fitted. Every detail including my favourite pair of socks was perfect. How odd. I didn’t remember going to bed dressed but I wasn’t as concerned with that as with exploring my surroundings.
            I found myself washed over by a wave of curiosity. I had trouble recollecting events that happened before waking up. That fact didn’t worry me much, though. Rather, I was curious as to what this place was and why I had woken up here, fully dressed, instead of some other place. I had to satisfy my increasing zest for knowledge.
            I stepped into an open hallway on what appeared to be a mishmash of the first and second floors of a building. There wasn’t so much of a divide as there was a gradual descent. Not quite a stairway, not quite a ramp. I could see a large lobby below me and the general buzz of commotion filled the air. There appeared to be only natural lighting in the hall and the rest of the building for that matter. Still, with the sun near its peak, the white walls of the house I inexplicably found myself in were glowing. On the wall were paintings that seemed very old as the frames were worn and some of the paintings themselves were scratched or torn in places. The other part of the hallway was a dead-end and appeared to serve as an entry to another area of the house. The doorway in that area appeared to rise into the wall somewhat and had an odd white glow when compared to the rest of my surroundings. It probably led to an upstairs of some sort. In fact, the entire area on that side of the hallway seemed to be brighter than everywhere else but I couldn’t decide why. On the other side was the subtle decline, providing a means to reach the concourse below. It was white and ornately decorated with circular rails at its sides and complex etchings carved throughout. It seemed to be the only way down.
            Deciding to investigate, I made my way to the staircase and was greeted by others coming out of their rooms. All were dressed in the finest fabrics. Some were male and some were female, all of varying ethnicities and backgrounds. The men were mostly dressed in fine button-up shirts, although some wore t-shirts. They wore varying sorts of pants. Some wore dress pants, some wore jeans, and some wore khakis. Most of them seemed content and were engaging in light conversation. I approached a few of them and found that I was content merely to listen to what they had to say. As opposed to usual, I felt no compulsion to speak and was filled with what I can only describe as an aura of peace. I decided to listen to most of them in order to gain some additional information if I could. After some time, the group looked at each other and a certain recognition lit up in their eyes as if they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. They nodded subtly and turned to go downstairs.
Following them, I descended the staircase to find a group of people funnelling in through an adjoining room. They all had warm smiles on their faces and had an odd glow about them. Not a glow in the sense that light might glow but a glow in the sense of an aura or warmth of some kind. They seemed to radiate this warmth and each seemed content and at peace. I remember thinking how strange it was to wake up in an odd house to find a group of people so happy and unassuming. I also remember feeling completely at ease with the situation though it was the sort of thing that might make me uncomfortable in any other circumstance. The denizens of the house seemed perfectly at ease, content with their light conversation. Unlike myself, they seemed to show no particular curiosity about their surroundings. They were more than likely already familiar with everything around them.
            The group talked amongst themselves for a while and I did manage to learn somewhat pertaining to my situation from joining subgroups and listening to their conversations. From what I could piece together, there was soon to be a picnic in the garden outside. The vast majority of the conversation was concerning the picnic, what was to be eaten, and the pleasant weather outside. Some nuances were made to a few of the guests arriving from afar to join the group but nothing tangible. I would have to settle for guesses at the moment.
            Eventually, our two groups began to shuffle outside, muttering all the while about the picnic. Naturally, I chose to follow. I had an insatiable curiosity and it seemed like following the group was the only course of action that might quell it. I had to explore my surroundings. I needed to find out what was around and why it was here.
            I made my way through the open doorway, styled in the form of an ornate arch with trim made of the same wood I had found earlier in my room. Outside, the first thing I noticed was the lustrous green lawn. To say that the lawn had a certain shine to it would be an understatement. As my view through the window had shown me earlier, the day was perfect. The air was warm with a smooth breeze flowing through the air and caressing my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt. I noticed the gardens – how not? They were beautiful with flowers of every color imaginable, carefully trimmed and arranged in rows. Very pleasing to the eyes. They played together perfectly with the clear blue sky above.
            I approached the group who had congregated to a nearby area and attempted to find a spot in which I might view the proceedings while fitting in. While I was in the process of doing so, a girl caught my eye. This girl was dressed just as nicely as the rest of us but seemed to be distinct, as if there was something different about her. She seemed to have an awareness about her. She was beautiful, wearing a flowing summer skirt that perfectly accented her legs and breasts. Her hair fell straight, a few blond strands flowing about her face. Her smile was contagious and her eyes gleamed with the same curiosity I had felt to this point. Immediately, we both recognized each other by a simple glance, one look in the eyes, and made our way through the crowd to each other. As we neared, I felt compelled to speak.
            “Hi.” The words sounded alien coming out of my mouth. Had it really been so long since I had last spoken? It had probably been about an hour since I had woken up. Why didn’t I feel compelled to speak to anyone until now?
            “Hi,” the girl replied, “My name’s Eve. What’s yours?”
            “Tony, pleased to meet you,” I said dumbfounded as I extended my hand to her.
            It was then that I noticed the people from the other group – the ones that had the inexplicable warmth – were moving about us, not seeming to notice anything or anyone else other than themselves. I found it passing odd.
            “The weather is beautiful, isn’t it?” She said, releasing my hand and holding eye contact briefly before flashing me a smile.
            I couldn’t help but smile in return. “The weather’s perfect!” I said. Now more aware than ever of the lustrous green grass, I asked her, “Why is the grass so shiny?”
            She laughed - such a sweet sound - and replied, “Why shouldn’t it be? It makes sense, doesn’t it? Everything here is beautiful.”
            We shared a silence for a time, each of us seeming to take into account the conversation and the surroundings. I had to own, it was beautiful. The weather was showing no signs of changing anytime soon. Not only that, but it was peaceful too. Everyone around was content and there was no malice I could detect from anyone. I studied Eve, who was poised to speak once more.
            “Are you here for –” She began.
            “The picnic,” I said, cutting her off. It wasn’t that I was trying to be rude, I just felt that we were on the same wavelength and knew what she wanted to talk about. She was curious like me. Not only that, but she seemed to take a special interest in me and I in her. It made her more attractive to me. It made her special.
            We both laughed at the same time, clearly noting the same things. “I suppose,” I said, answering her question that I had interrupted. “Do you know when it’s supposed to start?”
            “No. But I think it’s going to be soon. Did you notice that?” She asked, referring to the increasing buzz and commotion about us.
            “Yes…” I said, thinking about the commotion. “I suppose you’re right then.”
            The picnic started in short order. More finely dressed people of warm hue brought out plates of fruit, sandwiches, and lemonade. There was enough food and drink to feed a small army. There was no order to it either. People were seated in groups wherever they chose. The servers merely brought the trays over to our group and then left to find and serve the next one. After they were finished, the servers too took their places seated in the garden and began to eat their meal.
            The picnic passed in due time, all the while Eve and I talked within our group. We talked of small things, likes and dislikes. There didn’t seem to be too much else pressing to say.
            As the others began making their way back to the white house I paused and marvelled at Eve. “You’re different. You do know that, right?” I asked, quite certain that she did in fact know that she was special.
            “Yeah,” she replied. “But you are too, aren’t you?”
            “I suppose. I mean – everyone else here – no one strikes a chord with me the way that you do. You’ve got that certain…awareness about you. It’s intoxicating.”
            “Oh, so I’m like a strong wine to you?”
            I laughed, “I don’t know. It’s not so simple.”
            We sat for a while longer, measuring each other in the silence. After a while she spoke again, “It’s like something…metaphysical. There’s some inherent quality in you – in me too – and it makes you stand out. It’s kind of like taking a highlighter and coloring all over someone.”
            A highlighter? Coloring people a different hue? It reminded me of the “warm” people. The denizens of the house. That train of thought got me thinking. Why were those people “warm?” How could I unravel that mystery? And so, while pondering the nature of the warm-hued people, time slowly passed until Eve and I were among the last remaining in the gardens.
            “We should go,” she said, rising and beckoning for me to follow.
            On the way back to the white house we noticed that the buzz and commotion inherent in the house earlier had returned. We entered to find a great congregation in the commons. It was the same as before: People talking lightly with that same eerie smile on their faces. I began to wonder if they knew any more than I did or if they held all the answers behind that casual ease with which they conducted themselves. I decided to listen to them a little more. Maybe there was something I was missing like some sort of undertone to the conversation that might light up a bulb in my head, making everything apparent.
            I stood with the group nearest to me. They were talking about the picnic and how much fun it was. There was no talk of past and no talk of future. It was frustrating. I was curious and hungry for answers to my questions. Still, I was compelled to silence as if my speaking might break some tenuous covenant of the group, sending everything crashing down. A while later I snapped out of my thoughts to notice that Eve was gone.
            Not knowing where to look or being able to remember where she had gone, I decided to continue listening to a few more groups. Some time later, the serenity of each casual conversation was broken by a piercing scream. It was a woman’s scream.
            Eve.
            Damn it!
            Several people ran toward the adjacent room that the scream emanated from. Someone called out, “To the kitchen!” Well, at least I knew a little more about the layout. I rushed to follow.
            What I saw in the kitchen was a gruesome sight. Eve was dead. It looked like she had been stabbed everywhere. The amount of blood was surprising. It was still running out of the fresh wounds, staining the pristine white floors. The most eerie part of it all was that there was a smile on Eve’s face like she wanted this. Who would want this?
            The others were calm, exchanging glances, still unaware of their casual attitudes or warm hues. A few moved to pick up Eve. They wanted to get rid of her corpse. Soon she would be gone. They would dispose of her and clean her red legacy spilled on the floor.
            Oh, Eve! A strong wine indeed.
            In time, the cleaning was done. The warm-hued ones did it with those eerie smiles on their faces. I did notice that the mood of the room had changed somewhat, though. They were a touch more sombre – just a touch – and mildly celebratory. The conversations that followed elaborated on my observations a little.
            They were talking about Eve. One said, “She was a great woman. I am sad for her loss but happy for her at the same time.” What? Happy? Another said, “This is a sombre but momentous occasion. My friends, do not grieve too much. We must celebrate her as well!” I didn’t understand any of it. My curiosity had not been sated, Eve was dead, and I felt the same as the others did though I had no idea why.
            Soon a more formal reception began with red wine being served. It wasn’t like a funeral reception. Just a reception. And the red wine. It reminded me of Eve’s blood on that white floor. A tribute, I thought, like she was sacrificing herself for some greater good. No, that wasn’t right. Not sacrificing. The reception, the conversations, the mood. Everything made it feel like Eve had transformed herself into something else.
            After the reception we retired to our chambers. I stumbled up the ramp, my mind swimming in wine. Again, I noticed the glowing door at the end of the hallway. What was up there? I had the distinct impression that it was not yet time for me to unravel that particular mystery.
            In the morning it was as if nothing had happened. It was all strange smiles and inconsequential conversation. I was still filled with a zest for knowledge too. The day was analogous to yesterday, with perfect weather highlighting that incandescent glow of the lawn and the door in the hallway. Not knowing what else to do, I continued as I had yesterday. Soon, I found myself at another reception.
            I was engaged listening to a particular group that I had deemed to be the most interesting when it happened. Eve walked out of the kitchen with a smile on her face, as beautiful as ever. I stood there, shocked and dumbfounded. It was all I could do. She picked me out of the crowd instantly and strode over to meet me, perfect hips swaying in that flowing summer dress.
            “Tony, how are you?” she asked.
            “Me?” I asked, surprise apparent in my voice. “I should ask you. What happened? How are you here?”
            “I never left.” She paused, as if she was going to say something else but stopped, seeing my confusion. “Maybe I should explain this to you.” She looked into my eyes and held out her hand to me. In those eyes I saw compassion and understanding, fused into beautiful irises of sea-blue.
            I took her hand and she led me upstairs into the hallway with the glowing door. We stopped some distance away from it. Instead of releasing my hand like I thought she might, she grabbed both of mine and held them tightly.
            “I didn’t die in the kitchen. This place,” she said, releasing my hands and gesturing around us, “This place is perfect and that’s the entire point. We can be anything we want while we’re waiting. It is somewhat sad but my time waiting is now over. I think yours is getting close too and that’s why we noticed each other at the picnic.”
            “What is this place? What is it really? This house, these people, the warm hues – is any of this real?”
            She flashed me a comforting smile, “It depends on how you define real, doesn’t it?” She paused. “You see it. It’s real to you, isn’t it?”
            “I suppose…” I said, still not fully understanding. “Why do I not feel afraid? Should I be?”
            “No, you shouldn’t. This place is peace and was only meant to be seen as peace.” She let a moment of silence pass between us. “Everything will be fine,” she said, spreading her arms.
            Suddenly I felt strange. Everything was blurry and convoluted. Her arms were fusing into mine. No, we were becoming one! Every single body part was fusing. It wasn’t like an addition. It was more like becoming complete or whole. The process and feeling went on for a while and then she was gone. Or was she me now? The lines between her and I didn’t exist anymore and suddenly I understood everything.
            The warm-hued people were who we had left behind. Everyone else was in my situation. We were waiting. Waiting to go through that glowing door. This place was meant to be a comfort.
            I managed to steal a glance at my reflection in the glass of a case holding a deep-blue rock. I found that I wasn’t quite a man, nor was I quite a woman. I was still human but I was something different.
            “Now you see,” Eve’s voice – my voice – stated in my head. “We can be anything now. There are no limits.” No is. No isn’t. Just this. Just reality. Nothing else mattered.
            I straightened and composed myself, finding a smile on my face I didn’t know was there. I was nervous but I gathered my courage and opened the glowing door at the end of the hallway.

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