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Sunday, November 29, 2015

Sandman: Love Is A Dream - Chapter 2

This is the next step beyond in my fan fiction featuring the Sandman, the King of Dreams for DC Comics.

For timing's sake, girlpal Alice sent me a link about the reemergence of Sandman in comic book form by its creator Neil Gailman - HERE. Thanks, Dreamy!

Because writer/reader Renae suggested it, here's a bit of background on the Sandman - because me being a fan doesn't mean everyone else knows what the heck one is talking or writing about:

Dream, aka Morpheus (and Oneiros, the Shaper, the Shaper of Form, Lord of the Dreaming, the Dream King, Dream-Sneak, the Cat of Dreams, Murphy, Kai'ckul and Lord L'Zoril,) rules over the world of dreams. He is one of the seven Endless: Dream, Destiny, Death, Desire, Delirium (formerly Delight, but is now two in one), and Destruction.

After being captured and held prisoner for 70 years, Dream is now back in business, rebuilding his kingdom... but there is still much he doesn't know about the power vacuum that occurred in his absence. He has been around for billions of years, but still does not know all that much about humans, as he has, in the past merely acted as King... a king unaware of what his subjects and realm requires outside of the basics.
 The bit of song at the front of the story is by The Monkees - "I'm A Believer". The song that is written in CAPS throughout the story, line by line is "I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night)" as performed by The Electric Prunes. No, really. Awesome song. 

This is a short chapter - perhaps the shortest of the bunch... but then again, not all dreams are created equally.

The images within... real dreams... daydreams, actually... as I suffered from a lack of sleep during the night, thanks to the ravings of my girlfriend Junko who wanted to prove her love for me endlessly through the night... after night... after night.  I was mentally exhausted. I had no idea, half the time, whether I was awake or in Japan.

The experience was almost enough to make me want to swear off having sex for a day or so. What? This IS me, after all.  
 

LOVE IS A DREAM
by andrew joseph

CHAPTER TWO
"... I thought love was only true in fairy tales..."
"Love was out to get me.
That's the way it seemed.
Disappointment haunted all of my Dreams..."

The sleep of the damned is a much misused expression. The damned don't sleep. For that matter, neither does Morpheus. He awaits a mortal woman who makes him feel... alive?

"LAST NIGHT YOUR SHADOW FELL ACROSS MY LONELY ROOM..."

Meridia is tense with excitement. The knowledge of intense physical and emotional pleasure that the night always brings is almost enough to consider never waking up again. Of course, that would be crazy. Meridia never thought of herself as insane - just in love. Some pundits would ask, "What's the difference?"

As usual, sleep comes quickly and easily. Within minutes, her breathing becomes more relaxed. Heavier and heavier. Deeper down. Her eyes begin to flit around as she begins to achieve R.E.M. (Rapid Eye Movement). She begins to move through the ether surrounding the Material Plane.

A curious bird circles quickly in front of her. Some compelling force draws her toward it. She follows.

Scant moments later, she stands before the familiar gates of Dream. The gates swing open.

"I TOUCHED YOUR GOLDEN HAIR AND TASTED YOUR PERFUME..."

She walks toward the shimmering reverie towards her and plunges into a sweltering jungle. Vines and over-sized leaves swarm atop her. "Where is he?" she thinks. "This isn't like him."

"YOUR EYES WERE FILLED WITH LOVE, THE WAY THEY USED TO BE..."

As if sensing her displeasure, he moves around her. Engulfing her aura. She shudders slightly from the coldness.

Her pupils shrink to mere dots on a sea of white, as her hand is raised to her mouth to stifle a scream. It fails. "Aaaaaiiiiii..."

"YOUR GENTLE HANDS REACHED OUT TO COMFORT ME..."

Elsewhere in another part of the universe... the smell of the Louisiana bayou permeates the air. A slight drizzle has just begun to spit upon the myriad number of people before Elsa DuBois' eyes.

"What've ya got there, Ben?"

Her husband of 10 years, grins and pulls a sopping wet bag out from behind his back and tosses it to his wife. Elsa, moving in slow-motion, bends down and opens the draw-string around the canvas sack. She reaches in and pulls out her missing twin babies. Elsa sees the pale white skin... the limbs enlarged grotesquely by the dampness of the fetid swamp... the heavily-lidded, unblinking eyes... the greenness stares at her in confused terror... the curly reddish-blonde hair... the dirty brown water flows freely from their open mouths. Elsa begins to scream. Her friends and relatives around her tell her to let go of the children. But HE won't let her. The scream continues unabated.

Something inside Elsa DuBois snaps as she wakes up. Looking at the sleeping form of her husband beside her, she hisses audibly.

Fearing for the safety of her babies, she reaches for the brass table lamp beside her and brings it down repeatedly upon his head.

"THEN CAME THE DAWN AND YOU WERE GONE. YOU WERE GONE, GONE, GONE."

In another place, Tim Blackson's scream is cut off in his throat. The floor is alive. He watches in terror as the spiders pour out unabated through a hole in the ground. They swarm all over forming a fluid, shaggy carpet. The thick, rich over-powering smell of coconuts smothers his senses.

Timmy can't move. He is shackled to a chair. His bastard alcoholic father did it. He can spy him from the corner of his eye - watching... watching from another room separating by a plate of glass. He sees, but can't hear his father throw his head back in a throaty laugh.

The spiders begin to crawl up his legs. Drops of salty tears well up in his glistening brown eyes. The scream still won't come for him.

"I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT... TOO MUCH TO DREAM..."

Timmy sits bolt upright in his Batman-clad bed, clutching his wet pillow. His eyes dart furtively about the room looking for movement. His new-found sight sees the shadows come alive.

Leaping out of bed, and running to the closet, he picks up the Daisy B.B. Gun his father had bought him. Ripping open the box of ammunition with his teeth, he loads the chambers. He opens up the door to his room and walks on down the hall. "He's gonna kill hisself a nightmare," giggles a voice from the void.

"I'M NOT READY TO FACE THE LIGHT..."

He steps into the room where his father sleeps, glances momentarily at the pulsating walls. It throbs in rhythmic agony in time to his lethargic heartbeat. Timmy places the rifle barrel to his father's forehead.

The coldness snaps his father's eyes open. He doesn't even have time to feel the warmth of the crimson tide as it rushes down his face.

"I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM... LAST NIGHT... LAST NIGHT."

".....iiiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!" screams Meridia, as the harsh foliage of the jungle wavers out of sight. Meridia looks at the shimmering purple walls about her. She quickly relaxes as she realizes she is safe in His confines.

The darkness does not scare her now... even when it moves. As she blinks, the room is transformed into a bedroom. Her bedroom.

"YOU WERE SITTING, AS I STAGGERED FROM MY BED..."

Sitting on her rocking chair, slowly rocking is Morpheus. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Back and forth he moves. In and out of a patch of moonlight floating in a corner of the room. His right leg lies crossed over his left. He is slouched down into the chair. His left arm is stretched out to lie on her nearby desk. Long fingers play absently with an ink blotter. He is staring at her. A small wry smile is visible on his face.

"I COULD NOT FILL THE IMAGES RACING THROUGH MY HEAD..."

Meridia, lying in bed with only her hair and fingers above the covers, sits up in shock. As always, in her dreams, she is naked. Her heavy breasts heave rapidly in excitement. She stands up. The milkiness of her skin amplifies the redness of her hair. Her freckles dance like tiny flames upon her body.

Meridia walks slowly toward him. It seems to take forever. She giggles as she watches Morpheus purse his lips and blow a low wolf whistle. Dark. Light. Dark.

"YOU WERE SO REAL, THAT I COULD FEEL YOUR EAGERNESS..."

Standing up, he grasps her in his strong arms and holds her tight to him. Meridia's fingers probe underneath his overcoat. Finding the drawstring to his musky jerkin, she pulls it open. She slips a warm hand inside his shirt, feeling his smoothness. Morpheus grunts and holds her tighter. She can feel him.

"AND WHEN YOU RAISED YOUR LIPS FOR ME TO KISS..."

His tongue entered her mouth. Probing the wetness of her throat. Meridia's eyes widen at his forcefulness. He pushes her backwards onto her bed. In the blink of an eye, he is naked. He plunges into her with bestial fierceness. She screams in time to his thrusts. Not in pleasure, but in pain.

"...CAME THE DAWN, AND YOU WERE GONE. YOU WERE GONE, GONE, GONE."

Meridia lies on the sullied, stained sheets curled in a fetal position. Crying. Dark rings lie under her dull, green eyes. Dank sweat mats her hair in clumps to her forehead and shoulders. She mumbles his name, "Morpheus," and begins a new fit of tears and wailing.

It's been a poor nights sleep.

In the purple confines of the Dream, the Sandman stands slumped against a large closet of anxieties and wonders what went wrong.

"I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT. TOO MUCH TO DREAM. I'M NOT READY TO FACE THE LIGHT. I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT. LAST NIGHT. I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT. TOO MUCH TO DREAM. I'M NOT READY TO FACE THE LIGHT. I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT. LAST NIGHT. OH, TOO MUCH TO DREAM. OH TOO MUCH TO DREAM. TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT. OH TOO MUCH TO DREAM. OH TOO MUCH TO DREAM. OH TOO MUCH TO DREAM. I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM. TOO MUCH TO DREAM."

- 30 -



Rock-a-bye-baby,
Andrew Joseph

4 comments:

  1. Damn - this song is haunting me. Unbeknownst to me, I found that I own it from some 1960's hits compilation that sister gave me (just occurred to me that both my sisters are in their 60's now ... crazy!) The story is dark but nevertheless captivating.

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    1. In Toronto, back in the 80s, I used to listen to the radio all day Sunday when they played the Psychedelic Sundays. There was a place called the Vinyl Museum where I could buy old, original records and loaded up on original releases of the Beatles, Zeppelin, Floyd, Doors, Yes, Yardbirds, Amboy Dukes, and then bought best of albums from rhino Records of weird stuff like the Chocolate Watch Band, 13th Floor Elevators... so when it came time to write, I had all these great old songs running through my head. I usually write stories with songs going through my my fragile eggshell mind... it helps the juices run... and sometimes I use lines or phrases... Easter Eggs, if you will. Heck, I found out that Alice and I (a reader here) were at the same rock concert 20 years earlier... which is just weird, but cool. Plus, I used to play all woodwinds, keyboards and brass and taught piano and clarinet and have an uncle who was the conductor of the New Delhi Symphony and the India Army conductor... it's from him I gained my near-legendary ability to drink without punishment... plus maybe the appreciation for music. The words? Who knows. My brother has an Emmy for writing a kids show... but other then he and I, no one else writes. My mom did try her hand at creative writing while I was in Japan, however. I don't know how she was, but I did her homework writing jobs as tests of my ability... which helped me and my creativity. Perhaps my mother would have been a good writer if she had tried it earlier in life... sadly she died the year after I got back from Japan. I must admit I didn't write much from 1994 until 10 years ago when it became my paying job,,, and this blog six years ago...
      I'll assume your sisters don't remember the 60s because they were there. LOL. Cheers, FFF.

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    2. Here's my weird Sandman connection: The first Sandman signing in the US was on Staten Island, NY in the original Jim Hanley's Universe comic book store in the town of Eltingville -- http://ow.ly/VmhpK. I lived around the corner from it, and it was on my way home from the train station. I remember when Jim Hanley opened that store, and he was a really friendly, nice guy. My husband was in there often enough so it became a convenient meeting place for us. I guess Jim did pretty well for himself, since after we left in 1989, his business grew big enough that he opened up another store in NYC on 32nd street and moved his Staten Is store to a bigger location in the town of New Dorp. I read that the stores became JHU Comics in 2013, so I guess Jim retired. I wasn't in the bookstore for the Sandman signing in Dec 1988, but I was just around the corner ... ;-)

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    3. That almost makes you a nerd... but I love how it was also a love story.

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