Fiction: The Dream Watcher

February 2016 Blog Challenge: Blog 27 of 29

As a child I was happy to create stories and loved the escapism that they offered, going where my dreams and others, would take me… 

As an adult, I have now returned to the fiction form and have embarked on writing my first novel (of a trilogy). It’s a blend of semi auto-biographical and fantastical elements, which feels somewhat like making a giant patch work quilt of my life: There are some favourite scraps of my own old clothes, which I am adding to, embellishing and turning into a brand new pattern…

Part of my blog challenge this month is to create content for this first fiction book.  Each excerpt, which stands alone on this blog – will eventually be woven into the larger fabric of my completed book.

The Dream Watcher

And so he dreamt on whilst she watched…

He twitched and moved through his dream scape. She wondered where on earth or beyond he was, and could see how his breathing silently jerked and rasped his rib cage. The rhythm simply seemed to be out of synchronicity, and to measure this she mimicked the inhalations and exhalations of his lungs, as his chest rose and fell in undefined waves.

Without noise, she breathed out as he did, pulled the air into her lungs as he did and it was an odd and absorbing exercise in trying to get under his sleeping skin, for there was no real rhythm to it.

There was a light breath, barely moving his body and then a heavy one, heaving his whole rib cage, then a breathless pause, a wait to exhale and three fast silent gasps. In twinning his breath, she was learning to be him, to know him in a new dimension, secretly – when he wasn’t sentient or contained or knowingly observed.

All hers as he said he was, he was in sleep, next to her, oddly out of reach.

And then it was as if he could feel her watching him and he rose up from the breath of his dreams and opened his eyes, looking into hers – bringing her into view and looking at her with clear sight.

She smiled…

But then it was clear that in the moment he had not actually awakened or acknowledged her – she couldn’t decide which; and instead turned his back on her, to go back to his cave of dreams, without her searching eyes upon his secret, sleeping face.

PS: “It’s gorgeous. Fiction and creating other worlds for us to go to is your thing.”
~ Jacqui Malpass

This is just one from the many hundreds of comments from recent blogs.  The post above is a fiction and yet I also write about my own experiences.  In fact a collection of my ‘Peachey Letters’ have been gathered together in to a beautiful book, exploring all the facets of my ‘real’ life in all its’ badness, banality and beauty. This is love seen in every aspect of the life that I live.  In it you will find the dark and the light of love, in a way that will make you think, entertain you and let you know that you are not alone in life, whatever it holds for you… It is of course the perfect Valentine gift. You can buy ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ by Sandra Peachey, from book websites anywhere in the world, including on Amazon (in both Paperback and Kindle)

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