“Cake in the Gloom,” Dream 2 of Rebecca’s Dreams (Part One of “The Dream Diaries”)

"Cake in the Gloom" (Flash Fiction by Brenna Pierson) | authorbrennapierson.wordpress.com

 

I, Rebecca Fanten, agree to record any unusual dreams as part of my treatment. Below is entry #2, titled “Cake in the Gloom.”

I immediately dropped the knife—I looked around at the army of teddy bears and their little soft eyes that were beady in their plastic state. I knew now I could never hurt them.

“Teddy bears, I love you,” I told them, as the thunderstorm kept gathering above. “I could never hurt you— want you here forever.” And with that, I lunged down to grab the knife out of the sandy ground and flung it into the moat.

As soon as the knife plunged into the water, the moat surged into a huge wave—it was as if the splash from the small knife caused the entire moat to go into one single uproar. The wave rose to gargantuan proportions—probably as high as the castle on the opposite side of the bank—then hurled itself down on the beach.

The water literally just washed over me. I didn’t feel anything and didn’t see any change, except for the instant flash of clear water from the surge.

But when I looked around, the teddy bears were all gone. Somehow, I had managed to stay standing in the flowing dress on the shore, while every single one of the teddy bears had disappeared.

I gasped and swung toward the moat—but saw nothing. The water was still and calm, like nothing had happened. And certainly, no teddy bears floated on the surface.

Suddenly, I started bawling. I hunched over on the shore and cried while the gloom actually started to break up a bit above me—and dawn seemed to be coming through the clouds.

Then the weirdest thing happened: A person whom I can only call a “fairy godmother” type of character appeared right there beside me, while I curled over, sobbing. Since I was bent down, I was about at eye level with her, though she was only a child…mostly. She was a fairy of some sort, with shimmery wings and a fringed dress of some type of soft material—and the color I couldn’t quite pin down. It seemed to be all colors at once somehow. Yet, though she was but a child’s height and stature, her face was creased like a middle-aged adult.

“Here,” she said, holding up her palm as a platter. And in her palm was a full-sized cake with pink frosting.

Don’t miss the next part of “The Dream Diaries,” a flash fiction series.

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