THE APOCALYPS AT MY BACK DOOR

The more sound I sleep the more wild and disturbing my dreams.

Last night I had:

THE APOCALYPS AT MY BACK DOOR

By Dawn M. Sanders

 

Tornado destroying a house
Tornado destroying a house

 

I probably think too damn much, which is reflected in my dreams, but tortured soul that I am – I rarely have a sound night’s sleep and when I do – what my subconscious mirrors are my worst fears and darkest inner demons…

But they’re not just demons, they’re the lifelong emotions I’ve carried around like a part of my physical person all my life.

I’m talking of mainly the rejection, the loneliness – the things I live with like my living room furniture and the dreams always come back to these two entities…

So, onto the dream… I was just dwelling in my little sanctuary of a home – my home within the city that will ‘never’ be home.

It had become really dark outside in the middle of the day as I stood in the middle of the kitchen.

The rain started to poor outside, but it was mainly the wind.

It quickly took on hurricane strength, as if it had come from right off the sea – rocking my solid little brick house and completely spooking me out, as it howled like an on-coming freight train.

The back door kept flying open as the wind pushed from behind my house and I naively put my all-medal braille machine in front of the back door – thinking it would stop it from flying open.

It was all in vein. I tried locking the door, but then the force of the wind ripped off the entire back wall of my house.

I screamed a long curdling psycho-in-the-shower scream, which resonated through the doorway of my subconscious echoing into the empty chamber of my conscious head, as the menacing black/grey was revealed from the volatile elements attacking. My whole world and sanctuary crashed all around me.

Then it was over, with my scream fading and thankfully, I woke up, in my bed – empty of only the soft purring cat curled next to me under the duvet – I’m still here.

 

 

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