The Time it Takes to Smoke a cigarette-Part2 - The moisture

A continuation of my story. This one is graphic and somewhat horrific but a lot of my writing back then was. Some could find this offensive.

It was another beautiful morning as I awoke to my annoying alarm clock. It was 5 am on the dot. I peered out the window on this bright rainy day as I poured myself a lemonade. Wrapping my robe around me, I headed to the porch. The weather totally knocked me away. It was 60 degrees with a steady rain. Apparently, it had been raining all night by the looks of the soaked grass. I wouldn't remember as I almost never remember a long night. I lit a cigarette and sipped my lemonade, dreaming into the falling rain. A certain spot on the railing around the porch caught my eye. It seemed to me that this was the only spot on the railing that the water beaded rather than ran. I looked deep into the tiny puddle and saw my eyes looking back. In my eyes though, I saw a tunnel of water that I began floating down until I became completely submerged. It took me awhile to find the surface like I was in vertigo or something of the like, but when I did I just floated right up. This was most unusual. I never daydream or really fall back asleep unless I was in bed, so as to explain this I could not. The shallow pool I emerged from was in the middle of a vast field of green grass and nothing else. I did, however, catch a glimpse of a distant farmhouse. Leaving the water, I noticed I wasn't the slightest bit wet, which made me the slightest bit nervous, but the short walk to the ranch in the middle of nowhere was quite relaxing. As I approached closer to ranch now, I see farm animals all over. I saw not a soul outside but inside was a nightmare. This mysterious wooden masterpiece looked to be completely handmade and the porch even squeaked as I walked on it. As I walked into the house, I saw a man, about 40, with a shotgun standing near his son, who looked to be about 12. It seemed to me that this man might be taking his son hunting. A woman entered the room, presumably his wife, and the man turned and fired a round into her, then his son. This little skit ended with a bullet for himself. A bit shook, I hurried away from this bloodbath and entered another room. Two negroes were hitting a crack pipe. One appeared to be the older brother, in his 20s, supplying the crack to his little brother of 14. Big brother was smoking like a champ but little brother coughed a lot. He continued to cough until both lungs collapsed and laid, shaken and gasping for air. I literally ran from the room only to witness a 12-year-old girl being raped by her uncle that was, at least, in his 30s. Where the hell was I and how do I escape these horrors? These were the questions that drove me as I ran back across the field. I just wanted to be back on my porch, sipping my lemonade and watching the rain. Its bad enough we watch this on a daily basis but to a much less degree. When I got to the pond I just dove in. I awoke to light splashing in my bathtub, choking on water and watch my soaked cigarette fall apart.

Reviews

[alanwgraham]

Your idea of using a dream is good and I have a few stories like this. I think your story has an X file vibe about it as well. I noticed that you used different tenses in the middle - ie see and saw and you should be consistent. Personally I would tie the dream to something that happened in your own life - which they do.
I enjoyed reading it and well executed (i don't mean the family!)
regards,
Alan

[Jeff]

This stuff is so old, I try and maintain its integrity by not changing much but, alas, something must be edited some. I am glad you enjoyed it. I guess it is the same reason I hang on to it.