Vivid Living

 Barry was an ordinary man with an ordinary job and a slightly above ordinary girlfriend. Well, Lauren was ordinary, but, every once in a while, the light would hit her just right or she would laugh at something and would catch him off guard; those were the times she was above average. 

 Every day was basically the same. Wake up, get ready, iron clothes, put on clothes, make and drink coffee, drive to work, do said work, leave, sit in traffic, get home, have dinner with the girlfriend, have sex, go to sleep. This is the way he liked it.

 

 The alarm clock went off at seven. It woke up Barry and Lauren. She stretched the sleep out of her muscles and looked at him. "I had the craziest dreams last night." Oh, really? "Yeah. I was on a boat with no destination. In the dead of night, we were swallowed up by some kind of sea monster. It felt so real. Radiohead was playing at such a high volume that I couldn't even hear the other people on the boat screaming for help. I just watched them do this choreographed dance to the music. It was beautiful and horrifying all at the same time." I've never remembered a dream, Barry said. "Really?" Lauren asked. "That's kind of heartbreaking." I wouldn't know where to start, he replied. 

 "Do you remember your dreams?" Barry asked a co-worker. 

 "Sometimes. Not all the time," the co-worker replied. "Why?"

 "No reason," Barry said and threw away the rest of his lunch and went back to his office. 

 He sat down at his chair and typed 'how to remember drems' into Google. It said, "Did you mean 'how to remember dreams'?" and he clicked on it. It took him to a list of pages with that heading. The one he ended up clicking on had a list of ways to affect your dreaming and how to remember them. It had a lot of ideas that seemed great to Barry. He wrote a few of them down and underlined the one that said you should repeat something out loud, or in your head, until you fall asleep and then look for it in your dream. He put the paper in his briefcase and couldn't wait until he went to sleep. 

 When he got home that night, Lauren had chicken and potatoes waiting for him. They ate together while talking about their days and each enjoyed a glass of wine . When they finished, they went upstairs, brushed their teeth, and then she sat on top of him. They never made eye contact anymore. Sometimes that happens in relationships when you get comfortable. You begin to think about what you'll do the next day or what you should have said to your boss. It in no way reflects on the sex, just something you do without even trying. 

 Lauren stood up and went to wash her face. Barry lied on the bed, arms behind his head, and starting whispering, "Soap. Soap. Soap. Soap." 

 When Lauren came back to bed, he was still saying, "Soap," and she looked at him. "Any particular reason your saying 'soap'?" she asked. 

 "Trying to have a dream I might remember tomorrow," he said and turned on his side. He thought the word soap until he fell asleep. 

 He was standing in the shower. Everything looked as it always had. Even the stains (it surprised him those would be in his dream. He remembered thinking that as it happened). He looked at the soap. Just a bar of soap, like any other, and he picked it up and began moving it across his body. With every movement, it softened a little more until it began seeping into his skin. He watched in amazement as he washed around his dick and pieces of the soap got caught in his pubic hair and then disappeared. He laughed. The water turned into milk and he drank from it until he was full. When he woke up, he remembered all of this and was very happy. 

 For the next few nights, he would mumble another word : "Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex." "Flying. Flying. Flying. Flying." "Snakes. Snakes. Snakes. Snakes." And every morning, he would wake up and remember everything that had happened. He would tell Lauren about his dreams and she was so happy he had found something he loved to do. "That's fantastic," she would say. She stopped telling him her dreams. She did this because he was finally having his own, but he suspected jealousy. 

 They were in bed next to each other and Barry began saying, "Hiking. Hiking. Hiking. Hiking." 

 "Can you say those words in your head?" Lauren asked. She was sitting up and reading a book. 

 "Yeah. I'm sorry," he said as he began thinking of hiking large mountains, small mountains, and even hills. 

 "It's okay," she said, "I'm just trying to read and I can't retain any of it because all I'm thinking about is hiking." 

 He turned over, found a comfortable position, and repeated "Hiking" in his head. 

 There he was. On top of Mount Kilimanjaro. He had all of the required hiking gear. Or, what he would think would be required. He was surrounded by people he had never seen in real life, but here he recognized them as friends. People who he had known forever. They set off on their journey and he couldn't have been happier. It began to snow and he stopped to let the flakes fall onto his goggles and on his tongue. He laughed and thought, that's the best snow I've ever tasted. When he looked back down in front of him, everyone he had been with had disappeared and he was sliding towards the edge of a cliff. No. I don't want this, he thought. I want to be hiking. I don't want this to be happening. He kept sliding until he reached the edge and his boot got caught on what he assumed to be a rock. He stared down below and the distance to the bottom. He imagined himself falling over and how he would have surely died.

 When he awoke, he turned over and looked at Lauren. She opened her eyes and said, "Are you okay?" 

 "Yeah," he said, out of breath. "Why do you ask?" 

 "You were making weird sounds," she said. "Nightmare?"

 He searched her face. Had she whispered something in his ear that had made him dream that? If so, she was hiding it very well. 

 "Something like that," he said. He fell back asleep without thinking of anything in particular and woke up to the alarm clock and Lauren stretching. 

 He went to work and couldn't concentrate. He couldn't shake the idea that Lauren had been trying to kill him while he slept. He was terrified of her now. He had to be careful. 

 

 That night, they had Chinese. Some take-out spot down the street from their apartment. She told him about her day. He kept quiet about his. They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, undressed and he lied on top of her. He looked at her the entire time. Trying to figure out if this quiet, respectable woman could actually do what he thought she did. 

 "Is everything okay?" Lauren asked. 

 Barry said, "Mmhmm," and kept thrusting away. 

 "You're staring at me," she said. 

 "I'm sorry," he said and looked at the wall for a moment and then back at her. 

 She got up to wash her face. When she came back, his eyes were closed. "Saying it in your head?" she asked. He didn't respond. 

 He pretended he was sleeping the whole time she read her book. He pretended when she turned off the light, got comfortable underneath the blankets and fell asleep herself. He stayed up all night, waiting, but nothing ended up happening. The alarm went off and startled him. 

 Maybe I snore when I sleep, he thought. Maybe she knew I wasn't asleep because I wasn't snoring. 

 When she came to bed, his eyes were closed. 

 "Saying your word in your head?" she asked. 

 "Mmhmm," he mumbled. 

 "Well. Sweet dreams," she said. She turned off the light and went to sleep. 

 He stayed still with his eyes closed for a few minutes and then began snoring. A gentle rhythm at first and, every few moments, he would do it a little louder to keep off a specific beat. He did this all night and nothing happened. She had turned toward him once and looked at him but he didn't see this. 

 The alarm clock went off and Lauren sighed heavily. Barry pretended to wake from his sleep and said, "Wow. What a dream. We should really go to Hawaii," he told her. "I mean, if it's anything like the dream I just had." 

 "I didn't have a dream," she said. 

 "Oh?" Barry replied. "Can't remember it?" 

 "I didn't sleep," she told him. "For some reason, you snored all night." 

 "I wouldn't know," he told her. "I was asleep." And he got up and got ready for work. 

 

 Walking into his office, he locked the door, took his jacket off and used it as a pillow, falling asleep on the floor. He dreamt about sleeping next to Lauren the way they used to. He missed how comfortable it was. He missed the nights when she wouldn't try to kill him in his sleep. He couldn't go on this way. 

 Getting home, they ate T.V. dinners and sat in the living room watching the news. Lauren would comment about certain stories on the crime going on in their city and Barry would mumble his agreement. He didn't like how fake the chicken he was eating tasted. 

 They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, she commented on the crime one more time as they got into bed, and they had sex. 

 She was washing her face and he watched her while he mumbled, "Swimming. Swimming. Swimming. Swimming." 

 He was in the river that him and his friends used to swim in. His mother, looking just like a picture he had seen once of her as a teenager, was sitting on the rocks, waving to him. He waved back and enjoyed the cold water that was surrounding him. He felt weightless and it was fantastic. He went underneath the water to see how deep it went. Getting to the bottom, he touched the sand and pebbles and let them fall between his fingers. He began swimming back to the surface to catch his breath yet was stopped when he was almost to the top. He frantically swam a little further yet was still being held down. He looked up to see what was above him and it was Lauren. She was standing on his head no matter where he went. 

 He tried to scream and only produced bubbles. He panicked and finally forced her foot off of his head and gasped for air. When he wiped the water from his eyes, both Lauren and his mother were nowhere to be found. It was nighttime. 

 

 He woke up to the alarm going off and Lauren was already taking her morning shower. He caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow and just stared at the ceiling for a while. 

 Getting home from work that night, Lauren smiled at him and said, "Why don't we go out for dinner tonight?" 

 "Okay," Barry said. 

 They had sushi. They laughed about old times. She lovingly kept her hand on his leg. He thought she was buttering him up for the kill. He kept a watchful eye on her, making sure she didn't tamper with his food or drink. They kissed and he left his eyes open. 

 That night she went to wash her face and Barry sat in bed, repeating, "Self defense. Self defense. Self defense. Self defense." 

 He fell asleep and dreamt that he woke up in the middle of the night and watched his girlfriend sleep. He kissed her neck, then her cheek, and then whispered something inaudible in her ear and snaked his way back into the position he had earlier fallen asleep in. 

 When the alarm woke him, he sat up in bed and wiped the tired out of his eyes. "What a crazy dream," he said. Lauren didn't respond. She didn't even move when the alarm clock went off. 

 He looked at her. She was completely still, eyes closed, lips a little bluish. He shook her a little and said, "Lauren? Time to wake up." But she didn't. 

 He began to cry. 

 

 That night, while he was in bed, he looked at the bathroom, picturing her standing there in his boxers and t-shirt, washing her face. He closed his eyes and repeated, "Lauren. Lauren. Lauren. Lauren," until he fell asleep. 

Reviews

[Leap]

Bravo. Davey, your short, block prose has really begun to solidify. I felt like watching a moving slide-show.
"She stretched the sleep out of her muscles..." -- This line stood out to me for some reason. What a great way to describe waking up.
The scene where he whispers "death" in her ear within the dream isn't shocking -- for lack of a better term -- but it held this eerie imagining of the situation...it was disturbing to such a subtle sense. Bravo Davey.

[Rochelle Tyler]

Fantastic story, I wish I could back and circle every sentence, every little bit of symbolism i thought was woven in there, because by the time i get all the way done there is too much to comment on in one review. I have this conversation all the time, about dreams, and I think its great the spin you put on it. That people can be jealous of others' and eventually paranoid about manipulation of something so intangible. Another great story!

[Tim M]

Nice! I loved the lines, "she stretched the sleep out of her muscles" and "They kissed and he left his eyes open." Brilliant and poetic. The quick cuts throughout the action are just the right length, too: strong vignettes that leave strong images. Your syntax structure is becoming eloquent and bold, and it all only helps to build up the fiction into a reality.

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

god. this hurts! you are soooo excellent at weaving that sense of humour i love so well, and true horror and despair of loss, together.
there is an incredible build up here that reminded me of all the horror writers i love so well - the ones who write about the inner demons, just just the boogeys under the bed. this world is just a sidestep away from ours, and it feels as familiar as home

how do you do it David? just amazing. each new writing you create shows greater depth and understanding of how humans truly interact..