I Am a Writer and Like Writing
Escape to My Dreams (or is it from?)
For as long as I can remember thinking thoughts, I've been a dreamer.
Can't recall a time that my head wasn't stuck in the clouds, or pursuing some Walter Mitty-esque adventure.
But this story isn't about those kind of daydreams (which I still have, thanks to my two hours of commuting each day). No, this story is about a different kind of vivid dream. A recurring dream I've had for many years, off and on.
It starts with the sound of a bell ringing, signaling the end of the school day. I find myself in the music room of my old elementary school, although I know that I'm no longer that age. I pick up my trumpet case (my old one from elementary, not the professional model I've subsequently played since high school), and head down the stairs to the front door of the school building.
As I open the door, I notice that the sky has a weird red color to it - not quite the kind of sky that signals interesting weather times ahead, but more like a four year old just picked up the wrong color crayon and filled in the entire sky with this reddish hue.
The other thing I notice, as I begin walking the half mile to my childhood home, is that the streets and sidewalks are completely desolate - a visual that immediately fills me with a profound sense of loneliness, one that touches deep within me.
This feeling of loneliness changes to a creeping sense of dread, as I see a fairly sizable snake on the sidewalk ahead of me, moving in my general direction.
I should mention at this point that I really really really don't like snakes. I mean, which way are they going? Are you coming at me? Turning right? Turning left? QUIT WITH THE WEAVING!!
Sorry about that. Where was I?
Oh yes. The snake on the sidewalk.
To avoid him, I take a shortcut through my cousin's yard, only to discover more snakes behind her house. As soon as they see me, they start moving in my direction.
Dream or no, I start running my ass off to get away from these snakes before they could catch me. However, with each step I take, I see more and more snakes, until eventually, I am running on a layer of snakes at least a foot deep!
Somehow, I make it to my house without being bitten by any of these snakes, and I quickly let myself in, slamming the door behind me to keep out the snakes in pursuit. I run around the house to make sure all the windows and doors were closed, and after I check everywhere for a stray snake without seeing one, I feel like I could finally sit down and relax.
What better way to relax than to play a little music?
I set my trumpet case down, open it up, and take out my horn. I put the mouthpiece in the lead pipe and buzz my lips to start warming up.
I put the trumpet up to my lips and try to play a note, but I can't get any air through the horn.
Ugh. I must have one of the valves in backwards again. I check them all, and they are fine, so I try again.
Still nothing.
I turn my trumpet around to see if my cleaning cloth has been crammed in the bell again, and THAT'S WHEN A SNAKE COMES FLYING OUT OF MY TRUMPET INTO MY FACE!!
Needless to say, this is the point at which I wake from this dream each time, a little sweaty, definitely breathing hard. 😳
For as long as I can remember thinking thoughts, I've been a dreamer.
Can't recall a time that my head wasn't stuck in the clouds, or pursuing some Walter Mitty-esque adventure.
But this story isn't about those kind of daydreams (which I still have, thanks to my two hours of commuting each day). No, this story is about a different kind of vivid dream. A recurring dream I've had for many years, off and on.
It starts with the sound of a bell ringing, signaling the end of the school day. I find myself in the music room of my old elementary school, although I know that I'm no longer that age. I pick up my trumpet case (my old one from elementary, not the professional model I've subsequently played since high school), and head down the stairs to the front door of the school building.
As I open the door, I notice that the sky has a weird red color to it - not quite the kind of sky that signals interesting weather times ahead, but more like a four year old just picked up the wrong color crayon and filled in the entire sky with this reddish hue.
The other thing I notice, as I begin walking the half mile to my childhood home, is that the streets and sidewalks are completely desolate - a visual that immediately fills me with a profound sense of loneliness, one that touches deep within me.
This feeling of loneliness changes to a creeping sense of dread, as I see a fairly sizable snake on the sidewalk ahead of me, moving in my general direction.
I should mention at this point that I really really really don't like snakes. I mean, which way are they going? Are you coming at me? Turning right? Turning left? QUIT WITH THE WEAVING!!
Sorry about that. Where was I?
Oh yes. The snake on the sidewalk.
To avoid him, I take a shortcut through my cousin's yard, only to discover more snakes behind her house. As soon as they see me, they start moving in my direction.
Dream or no, I start running my ass off to get away from these snakes before they could catch me. However, with each step I take, I see more and more snakes, until eventually, I am running on a layer of snakes at least a foot deep!
Somehow, I make it to my house without being bitten by any of these snakes, and I quickly let myself in, slamming the door behind me to keep out the snakes in pursuit. I run around the house to make sure all the windows and doors were closed, and after I check everywhere for a stray snake without seeing one, I feel like I could finally sit down and relax.
What better way to relax than to play a little music?
I set my trumpet case down, open it up, and take out my horn. I put the mouthpiece in the lead pipe and buzz my lips to start warming up.
I put the trumpet up to my lips and try to play a note, but I can't get any air through the horn.
Ugh. I must have one of the valves in backwards again. I check them all, and they are fine, so I try again.
Still nothing.
I turn my trumpet around to see if my cleaning cloth has been crammed in the bell again, and THAT'S WHEN A SNAKE COMES FLYING OUT OF MY TRUMPET INTO MY FACE!!
Needless to say, this is the point at which I wake from this dream each time, a little sweaty, definitely breathing hard. 😳
51-55, M
