Sometimes the best way to tell if a story is great is by simply putting pen to paper and seeing how well the story writes itself. This particular story has been on my mind for a long time. It has taken over my dreams as it occupies all my thoughts before I drift off to sleep each night. In fact, so much of this story has come from my dreams that I am beginning to wonder if it is not I that am a character in someone else’s story. Whatever the case may be, this story wants to be told and I am willing to oblige.
It all begins in the wee hours of a beautiful starry night, made all the more glorious by the absence of the moon. Let me just interject for a moment to comment on an important aspect of this story. If you are anything like me, then you know how annoying those stories are that end with the main character waking up to find that the whole story was nothing but a dream. Now I admit that much of this story takes place in the context of a dreamer’s mind, but I do not suggest for one moment that any of the characters of this story are anything less than real, thinking individuals… unless, of course, they’re not, but more of that later.
On this particular night, a young boy slept soundly on the top bunk of his bunk bed, though he had no one with whom to share his bed. The boy had no siblings, though his parents had always hoped that one day there might be more children to share their humble but adequate home. Thus they had obtained the bunk bed at the graduation of their only child from the crib, hoping that another child would soon follow. Although he wished that he could have had a sibling, the boy was happy with his good fortune at being able to have two beds to choose between. From what he had heard in school, most children only had one bed in which they could sleep.
From a height, hundreds of feet above the small house, a silent observer noted that there were few neighbors for miles in all directions. Unaffected by the warm wind blowing steadily from the east, the observer watched the house carefully, waiting expectantly for something to happen. If someone could have seen this observer, they would have been shocked that despite the wind being quite strong, her dress did not so much as flutter and not a strand of her long silver hair moved out of place. Or perhaps they would have been more surprised that someone of her seeming advanced age would assume such a childlike position. As if peeking over the edge of an invisible magic carpet, the elderly woman lay on her stomach, her arms crossed beneath her chin as she gazed down toward the boy’s open window.
Master of Dreams & A Touch of Green includes the following divisions:
- Dream Walker Awakening (incomplete prologue to an incomplete story – above)
- Master of Dreams (incomplete long story)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
- Sarah (A short segment that I found in my journal and that I think falls between Master of Dreams and A Touch of Green)
- A Touch of Green (A later point in the Master of Dreams story. I had originally thought to make this the beginning of a third book, but I became too dissatisfied with my writing ability and left off writing.)
- A Touch of Green – Extension (After getting stuck in the previous story, I skipped ahead to write about a point further on)
- Green Resurrection (Just the prologue and first two paragraphs of what might have become a long story. The character speaking at the beginning is Dylan from A Touch of Green.)