Skip to main content
PBS logo

The Eclectic Pen - All a Dream

By: Geneve M. (Geneve)   + 8 more  
Date Submitted: 9/2/2007
Last Updated: 9/2/2007
Genre: Religion & Spirituality » General
Words: 387

  You make certain assumptions. The universe does too.

Generally, because of how you were brought up, they are for the most part the same assumptions; or if they arenít, the best you can muster is the feeling that something is different. Something is possible that wasnít before, quickly quelled, of course, when tried again and once more proven wrong.

But then there are other times, in the foggy darkness of sleep, when those assumptions simply cease to matter, and are once again at odds with what the universe has planned.

For the most part theyíre put to rest with a bit of meddling: The universe asserts itself, and your mind is tugged gently back to reality;
But once in a very great while, the universe stays at bay; your soul is stripped bare without even the basic knowledge of how things are to support and buoy you.
In those rare, frightful moments, things start to happen.

What I tell you is not truth. Truth has no meaning here, only what you understand to be real, and the strength of your belief in it has any importance. Has any power.

Perhaps itís merely a small thing: A coffee cup is placed on the table which has always been there, and for perfectly obvious reasons doesnít fall.
And if, when you seek to run your hands along its edge later, and find it to be elsewhere, well, perhaps it was moved. Thank goodness the mug didnít slip off.

So when you come awake the next morning, resting comfortably on the floor, mug of coffee sitting by your side, remember your dream: of sleeping peacefully in a feather bed, of coffee steaming on the table by your head, stretch.
Toss out the feathers blown in from your open window before you came awake, shake your head, and pass it all off as the dream it was. Get up, dress, and get on with life.

But remember, once in a while, how soft the silken sheets felt against your skin, and how the pillows smelled of tea leaves and fresh grass, how very safe you felt.

It was all a dream.

(This is an old one, at least a year, probably more, it still has a little bit of magic in it for me, though.

Really not sure where to put it, either!)

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Geneve M. (Geneve)

Member Comments

Leave a comment about this story...

Comments 1 to 2 of 2
Marta J. (booksnob) - 9/5/2007 8:59 AM ET
Yes! Sometimes a lingering dream is so wonderfully comforting...
IONE L. (zaneygraylady) - 9/12/2007 10:03 PM ET
I have had those moments. You discribed it well.
Comments 1 to 2 of 2