The Perfect Dream

I lay on the psychiatrists couch, my hands fidgeting, endlessly, my heart beating wildly, my eyes darting around the room.

dreaming-artwork-by-jeremiah-morelli

dreaming-artwork-by-jeremiah-morelli

This was not where I wanted to be. Not what I wanted to be doing. But I’d promised I’d come. The chaos had to stop.

She looked up from her notebook and smiled.

“Why don’t you tell me what you are feeling?”

The eye-roll escaped me before I knew it.

“Actually, forget that, I think with we might have another way of doing things. Why don’t you lie back in your chair and close your eyes.”

I was sceptical but I nodded, doing as she requested.

“Let’s pretend you are in a dream world, I want you to forget about everything else, and nothing else exists just you and the floating path. At the end of this path is your ideal moment of calm.” I smiled as her soft lilting voice spoke to me.

“Good, you see it. Now tell me where your path is leading. Where is your calm world?” I hesitate but she waits.

“I walk along the pathway. The route is empty, I am alone. At the end of the path stands a single tree, broad and tall. I sit down under leaning back against the solid trunk, then open the first page of a brand new book.”


Originally written to combine my #Maydays maydays-logo Books prompt with the photo featured on the Sunday Writing Prompt.

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7 thoughts on “The Perfect Dream

  1. Yes, that would be my ideal calm space. I saw this same image this other day and it really caught my attention. Glad to see it utilized in a story.

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