A Collection Of Flash Fiction Stories By Holarbolu
I dreamt again today.
Again, I found myself in that world, a world within the realm of Quietude, where all seems to me an elysian fields➖a place of utter bliss.
I found myself on a shingly beach on a fair night, brightly litted by thousand squadron of fluttering stars.
Far beyond lies a roaring sea, tossing, rolling toward the beach in its fitful show of might and strength.
I trudged onward to the mighty formidable sea, plunging into it in a daring dive, just in the manner of a flying dolphin. I started out within its affable expanse in a crawl, arms flailing at my sides, legs paddling at its pullulating wave, in the signature manner of the Baltimore bullet➖Michael Phelps.
I switched to the butterfly, meeting the undulating current face up. My breath coming in even spurts, runnel of water oozing into the pores of my flexile body. And the feel of that was mirth coupled with bliss.
I swam on, on and on, relishing in the refreshing luxury of such aerobic activity. I changed course from right to left, from left to right and it whatsoever direction and angle there is.
As this went on in that beyond realm, I found a hand shaking, and calling me from another. The shriek of that piercing voice slit through me and the inner world I live at the present. Its sheer force slammed into that glassy world, shook every inch of it, and splintered it into shards.
At that, I found myself back in a world; tiny, compact, and cluttered with clothes, books and other trivial things.
It was my room.
I sat up in a blink, and leveled my gaze to meet that of my mother, whose expression was blank and blanch.
And that was all I need, for a light bulb to flicker on in my conscience, knowing the worst must have been done again.
I patted down my nightclothe, to that fulcrum of the man in me. Alas! The deed has been done yet again. Again, I had soaked by mat, just like every other time i had dreamt of swimming while sleeping.
On reflex my hand swept over my forehead, down to my chin, as I have again been shamed by this belittling act. Bedwetting.
Again, I found myself in that world, a world within the realm of Quietude, where all seems to me an elysian fields➖a place of utter bliss.
I found myself on a shingly beach on a fair night, brightly litted by thousand squadron of fluttering stars.
Far beyond lies a roaring sea, tossing, rolling toward the beach in its fitful show of might and strength.
I trudged onward to the mighty formidable sea, plunging into it in a daring dive, just in the manner of a flying dolphin. I started out within its affable expanse in a crawl, arms flailing at my sides, legs paddling at its pullulating wave, in the signature manner of the Baltimore bullet➖Michael Phelps.
I switched to the butterfly, meeting the undulating current face up. My breath coming in even spurts, runnel of water oozing into the pores of my flexile body. And the feel of that was mirth coupled with bliss.
I swam on, on and on, relishing in the refreshing luxury of such aerobic activity. I changed course from right to left, from left to right and it whatsoever direction and angle there is.
As this went on in that beyond realm, I found a hand shaking, and calling me from another. The shriek of that piercing voice slit through me and the inner world I live at the present. Its sheer force slammed into that glassy world, shook every inch of it, and splintered it into shards.
At that, I found myself back in a world; tiny, compact, and cluttered with clothes, books and other trivial things.
It was my room.
I sat up in a blink, and leveled my gaze to meet that of my mother, whose expression was blank and blanch.
And that was all I need, for a light bulb to flicker on in my conscience, knowing the worst must have been done again.
I patted down my nightclothe, to that fulcrum of the man in me. Alas! The deed has been done yet again. Again, I had soaked by mat, just like every other time i had dreamt of swimming while sleeping.
On reflex my hand swept over my forehead, down to my chin, as I have again been shamed by this belittling act. Bedwetting.
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