writers-nightmare

WRITER'S NIGHTMARE""I felt a grip on my arm that shook my body, forcefully pulling me toward a tunnel of darkness. _ The threat of consciousness stole my steady breath. For a moment I believed myself to be under siege; ripped from the sky in mid flight, my wings useless against the monstrous claws shredding my reality. I struggled to remain, to be left alone, aloft. _Reaching with wings that through the power of imagination were suddenly feathered arms, I grabbed at the air. _My hands clutched at something solid. _Wooden. _A desk. _My head spun as I held the furniture, suffering the illusion of falling. _"I was flying," I gasped, realizing suddenly that it had all been a dream. "My best fantasy ever." Lifting my head from its resting spot on the writing desk, I worked mentally to secure the fading images, hoping to capture their essence to memory before they faded away forever. _Bitterness tainted my heart against the hand that had jerked me into sensibility. _Why was I always so callously awakened while doing my best work? _Why not let me dream?