09-09-2009, 07:29 PM
So here's a little explanation of what's to follow. I have a LOT of really vivid movie like dreams, and when I tell them to people I get told they'd make great stories and why don't I write them up.
Eh, it can be hard trying to string fragments of odd things into a real readable story, but I'm going to give it a try.
My main intent is to write a string of actual stories based on some of the odd stuff to run through my head at night. They say the more movie like your dreams are, it means you aren't expressing your creativity enough during the day.
Anyway, since I don't have any of this pre-recorded, what I'm going to do - so no one yells at me for taking up too much space on non-essential things - is START by writing down my actual dream - and then I'll EDIT it in bits until it's an actual story. So everything here will be a work in progress and I'm not going to type my dreams out twice in one post, promise.
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Romance in the Forest? - (dream this will be based on ended abruptly, so I'll have to wholesale make up the end) ^_^
Beginning of dream has no backstory, so I'll have to think of something. Basically, with no explanation, me and my honey and a room full of strangers are in what seems to be a florescent-lit back office conference room. It's got a cheap counter on one side, some beat up cafeteria tables in the middle of the narrow room on one end, and some faded second hand loveseats around an industrial plastic end table on the other end. Across the room from the wall with the counter is a huge wide-screen plasma tv. There are cheap plastic chairs scattered around, and most everyone has some sort of seating so we can view our instructional video. Me and my honey are sitting on the counter, facing the tv. It's high enough that we can see over most people's heads, except for a few who are sitting ON the tables, and not the seats.
I'm not sure what the instructional video is about - the whole scene feels like an employees meeting at the back room of like, a Wal-Mart - but not.
The lights are dimmed, the video goes on for a long time. The feel in the room changes from employees to refugees trying to enter a new country, and this is the naturalization welcome video.
I prop my heels up on the back of a loveseat that's pushed up close to the counter I'm sitting on. Some Official comes by and scolds me. I'm embarrassed and annoyed. Someone two people down from me reaches past me to turn off the light set that's right above the counter. Another Official comes by and tells me I shouldn't have touched the light switch without permission. I'm upset and offended. Just because I'm closest to the switch doesn't mean I did it. No one likes being wrongfully accused. There's a plate of muffins right beside me, near the switch. We're in a roomful of people, obviously they're refreshments. So I eat one. And again get scolded, for STEALING this time. Shortly after, the video ends and scene changes. Realizing that at some point in this train, I had slowly become less 'me' and more a character in a story, and my honey had turned into that character's love interest, a handsome devil with a great grin.
Outside, it is revealed that I due to my transgressions and other bits of knowlege gleaned from my documents that I am unfit to enter the country. I am left out, exiled at the border. My mother waves goodbye at me as she takes my son through the gates and across the border. I am handed my back mail, including a very fat envelope from the job prospect I had across the border. They are very sorry to hear I don't qualify for entry and give me a large amount of pamphlets and reccommendations, plus a promise to take me on as an employee should I ever get things straightened out and manage to become a citizen. Then I'm handed another letter, from the Officials of the land I'm in now. It IS to be exile then. I'm chased out of town and into the woods nearby. My love interest's butler quietly indicates a quiet passageway between grey stone buildings, and as I hear the howl of hunting dogs chasing me, I pass by a basket of sausage - my stomach growls, so I backtrack a few steps and snatch one up before running on, long skirts in hiked up on my free hand. The hunting dogs are distracted by the basket of sausage, and stop to eat, losing my scent. All but two of them, it seems. Those two scented that I had sausage as well, and kept on chasing me.
The trees catch at my long hair, and I'm scared. I don't want to be killed, hunted down like worthless vermin. I hadn't done anything wrong! The trees thin out a bit, and I stumble into a clearing. The dogs are catching up to me. I start tossing bits of sausage that I break off the large chain as fast as I can. The dogs aren't really after me anymore, it seems, and they happily eat my stolen sausage and wag their tails at me. So I gain two guard hounds.
We travel on together, and I smile as the dogs chase playfully after each other. It seems when they aren't 'working' they're quite friendly. The woods thicken again, and then thin out into a large clearing with soft green grass. I take my boots off and walk barefoot, glad to take some of the pressure off from my long walk. The grass is velvety soft and cool against my feet. One of the dogs spots a squirrel and wants to give chase, but seems held back. I don't know what command or keyword they might have been trained with, I can't seem to convey that it's ok for them to hunt for themselves. I feel sad, and then my stomach rumbles again, reminding me it was a long time ago that I took that sausage from the basket as I fled, and I didn't get but a couple of bites.
As I walk slowly along the grassy area, I notice a change in the grass nearby. There's almost a line where the soft grass stops and a wilder, rougher grass more like a fallow field begins. I look around more carefully, and realize I'd passed a little log building just inside the treeline. I approached the little building carefully, the dogs followed closely, but relaxed and friendly. The door was open, and so I stepped inside onto the cold flagstone tiled flooring of a tiny log cabin. Almost like a two room storage shed.
The dogs run straight into the second small room with the sleeping pad and settle down to rest.
As I'm poking around the tiny area I hear a scuff on the floor behind me near the entrance. I whirl around, skirts tangling on my legs in my haste.
Standing just inside the doorway is my love's butler. His sharply pressed suit immaculate as always.
Silently, he steps inside and opens up a shallow pantry cupboard which contains sandwich ingredients in glass jars. Freshly picked ruffled lettuce, slices of tomatoes, different meats, condiments, even the slices of bread are sealed in jars in pairs. He puts together a sample sandwich to show me that's what they are for, and then starts to toss the sandwich aside, as it's role is done.
I cry out and dive for the falling sandwich. The butler eyes me with disapproval and silently walks out.
I follow, hoping to ask the silent man about his master. If so many horrible things happened to me today, did he escape unscathed?
The butler stays silent and picks up a rough wooden bucket in his gloved hands. Begins to walk to the other side of the clearing, motioning for me to follow. I trail behind, still barefoot. We follow a small path between some trees on the far side of the clearing from the little log building, and enter into the wide manicured lawn of an Estate. There is a large fountain with a well kept decorative flowerbed near the front gates.
My love's butler walks up to it, and fills the bucket for me. Then sets it down at my feet. Obviously, this is where I get my water for the time being.
I feel so confused, lost, and lonely. This silent figure has shown me pre-arranged means for me to survive, but barely. I don't think that the small amount of daily sandwich meat in that cupboard will feed those big hunting dogs.
I hesitate, and then awkwardly try to ask Mr. Silent about the dogs welfare. He seems surprised, then relaxes a bit. His whole manner changes as he pulls his gloves off, and lights a cigarette. He says he'll personally arrange for some extra meat for the dogs, and we chat for a while about dogs in general.
As I idly circle the fountain, looking at the show flowers, I notice the door to the Manor behind us is wide open, allowing for a glimpse of the great table inside. Seated so he'd be visible from the door is my Love, and as our eyes meet, he smiles and then the doors close.
The butler clears his throat, and a flash of insight makes me realize that my escape was pre arranged by my love, since he couldn't officially interfere with the laws of this land. The basket of sausage, the stocked outbuilding.... he was doing his best for me while staying within the laws of the land, barely.
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And I'll be back later to clean this up and make it read the same from start to finish. I've got a ton more where that came from.
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