The Invisible Moon

The Dream, August 1991

Bryan seemed to be swirling in the eye of a hurricane or whirling in the funnel of a twister. This once infrequent dream was now becoming repetitive. He would swirl like a top, his body soaring higher, until the clouds dispersed and the eternal spiraling came to a sudden halt. Indistinguishable images assembled with the strange sense of unseen familiarity. Scrambled voices sounded in a variety of pitch and tone, and painful discordant sounds echoed over and over as the images began to define themselves. All his senses seemed to be stimulated. Bryan sprang from his bed, stood in the dark room and just screamed.

"When will it end? God, when will I be released from this damn dream? It makes no sense. What unrest festers within my unconscious mind?" Tears welled up in his eyes and a sudden agony of shivering took possession of his whole frame; great sobs shook him with an almost childlike abandon. He could feel the perspiration chill his body as he stood trembling. He returned to his bed, eyes wide open and frozen.

"What is it that I need to remember? What have I forgotten?" The harder he tried to make sense of it all, the more difficult the clues became. just as the new moon was unable to illuminate his room, neither could it shed its light on his exigency. He reached to turn on the lamp by the bed, which was the only relief from past ghosts.