Dreams...Survivor Challenge #13

As I walk in this place unknown, clothing soaked like second skin, I startle those that are inside "Come on in" in their eyes. I take in this little place, and figure I am fairly safe, for in the faces that I see, are gentle eyes that pity me. "Take a seat" someone says, "have some coffee to warm your bones. Let us know how you have come to be here, among us, this evening." The smell Of coffee relaxes me a tiny bit, yet I am still uneasy. As I begin my tale of my trip, that brought me to this place, and time. And I begin to wonder, what manner of people are these that would be welcoming a stranger so late in the night? In the corner I spy an elderly lady, whose eyes, seem to look through me, they are the most startling blue, ever I did see. Her hair, spun gray silk, worn upon her head, her voice a tiny whisper, that echoes in my brain. The waitress brings me coffee, to me she looks too young, to be out this late at night, waiting tables, for everyone. The owner scowls at me, like I have interrupted some sacred plan. He is a dark man, I can sense evil in him. I can smell the stench, wafting from his clothes, almost like burnt flesh. I decide I should use the phone and be on my way. For the night is drawing to a close, and soon it will be day. I ask for some change, and the direction to the phone, as sudden fear overwhelms, and chills me to the bone. Please, just let me make this call, and leave this awful place, I plead to myself, as they watch me, they see it in my face. I find my way to the phone, the object of their desire, they want my blood I can tell, to fuel their awful fire. Now I know, why the smell, that came from those inside. For as I walked to the phone I saw what they did hide. In the back, of this place, there was a raging fire, and searing bodies strewn here and there, like a funeral pyre. I run to get away, not wanting to be seen, no longer in need of the phone, from my throat a curdling scream. And then I awake with a start, safe and in my bed. and realize that this was a dream, that came from in my head. Written April 11th, 2002 © on Apr 10 2002 10:13 PM PST, Deborah Wolz   0 • 10