Short Story

A repetitive rhythm winds up in my mind’s eye and renders a reflection of where I’d rather be. I’m welcomed into this comforting dreamscape every night and I watch my future whirl around. I find the same friendly figures fluttering, spinning and ruffling around one another, each emulating a part of my destiny. A museum of my frilly fairy tales.

I never thought my Dreamworld would ever leave me. But when I entered tonight, my sculptures began shifting like never before. Ruffles started to quiver. Fluttering turned to trembling. Newton’s cradle struck and shattered its neighbour to bits. I ran in every direction. Taking cover under crumbling ceilings and broken barricades.

“Who dreamed this scary planet?” I chased this thought out of my head. The sky sulked. The clouds grouched. My heart thwacked. Tonight I realized, Dreamworld had collapsed.