It's been a while and I'm struggling for inspiration, so I'm busting out: the random CD prompt.
Find a song at random, use its first line as your own, or at least as part of your opening line (credit where yadda yadda yadda), and then go wherever your creative little minds take you.
Normally I tend to flick around until I find an opening line that inspires me, but this time I'm being firm with myself. I went to a Vancouver radio station's online site and decided to use either the current song or the one that came on next.
I felt like a challenge. I'd say I got one, as I definitely would have kept looking if I'd allowed myself the choice.
When she sleeps there is a fever dream that takes hold, embracing her body with burning claws, nuzzling her neck with earthy breaths. She struggles, tossing and turning until the bed sheets entwine her arms and legs, allowing no escape.
Images flash by, one after another, an unending parade of impossible creatures in foreign landscapes. A bear-like creature stands and roars before a statue of an unknown king. Two white wolves, black wings on their shoulders, snarl through bloodied fangs on a plain that belongs to the moon. Ravens, seemingly on fire, perch on gravestones, their engravings in a language unrecognizable.
She calls out but there is no one coming to her rescue.
In her dreams a man in a grey robe stands in a forest facing away from her, chanting softly and rocking forward and back. She knows she should flee but her body will not respond to her commands. Instead she moves closer, feet stepping silently upon the mossy ground. An urge to hear his words drives her onward until she is within arm's reach.
Unbidden her arm rises, stretches toward his shoulder. The chanting stops as her fingers brush the rough fabric of his robe. She is aware of a deep silence, as though the woods is holding its breath. Slowly, like a reluctant second hand, he turns to face her.
She wakes, screaming, to find her alarm clock welcoming her to another rainy interlude between fever dreams.