Sunday, July 1, 2018

Unfinished Short Story

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Along the lines of the other short stories found with my Miscellaneous Fiction comes this. The file dates from at least 2001, which seems accurate. As with most of my other such items, I was following a writing prompt, in this case the words "purple, look, sleep, rob, goddess." Unlike with the other stories, this one was apparently never finished; I seem to recall that it started running so much longer than the short-shorts welcomed in writing forums that I grew too discouraged to continue. However, there's enough of it that I find it interesting enough to share.

The file is entitled "experiment1.html"--I never got the chance to title it or to write further "experiments."





UNFINISHED SHORT STORY


In his dreams he would roam through great tangled gardens. He never knew where he was, or which way he was going. Yet he never felt anxious or lost. The mysterious gardens became familiar to him, the place he would retreat to in his sleep, and he always longed for night to come when he could see the gnarled trees and the flowered archways once again.

As time went on he began to map, in his mind, the layout of the gardens. He would look at particular trees and shrubs--some of them shaped by some unknown hand--and make mental notes of where they lay, how close they were to one another, which direction the sun was in when he saw them. (For the sun never seemed to move.) Things began to slowly follow a pattern. And he slowly learned how to control his dreams, so he could roam the strange stone pathways and breathe the air which was thick with perfume longer each night. He loved the gardens, and grew to loathe the mornings which inevitably took him away from this place.

Upon one day as he wandered, twirling a velvety flower between his fingers, he stopped in amazement to find that he was not the only one within the gardens. Far ahead, where the flowered maze opened into a round court, he spied a tall stone fountain the color of ivory. A woman sat beside it in a flowing white dress, her flaxen hair falling in small curls over her shoulders. Her head bore a wreath of tiny wildflowers. When she looked up and saw him, he saw her eyes were the green of the topiaries that littered the gardens, and he felt that if she were not a goddess, then she at least must be supernatural in some way. There was no chance that this strange vision was of his world.

He approached slowly, lest she disappear before his eyes. Yet she stayed where she was, watching him with an amused air, until he passed through the archway carved from the bushes and reached her, stopping still to stare at her. The water trickled from the fountain with a light musical sound, but aside from this and the birds and frogs of the gardens, nothing else could be heard around them.

She smiled at him, and opened her mouth to speak.

And the daylight came and fell across his eyes, waking him most brutally, so he groaned with bitter disappointment as he sat up in bed, the dream shattering around him.

He went through the rest of the day in a dark mood. He hated the daylight. Why did it always decide to rob him of his beautiful dream at the worst possible moment? He felt certain the woman had been ready to tell him something, something important--he felt anything that came from her mouth would have been important--but now he had no way of knowing. Thankfully, he knew how to control his dreams to the extent that he would attempt to pick it up where he'd left off, but there was no certainty that he'd be able to do this--what if she had moved to a different part of the gardens? What if he only managed to find her once the daylight had come again, and it was too late?

The thought terrified him, yet he resolved to do his best. And he determined to ask her what he could do about it. He couldn't go on with the day interrupting his dreams like that anymore. It was the only thing beyond his control.

And so he welcomed the nighttime when it came again, and lay down to sleep...

...And entered the gardens almost immediately, this time not wandering at leisure, but walking with a purpose, looking this way and that, seeking out the fountained court and the mysterious woman who sat at its edge.

He didn't have to look long; the archway leading to the court appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and he made his way for it, hoping she was still there. He needn't have worried. As soon as he entered, there she was, sitting as she had the day before. She smiled at him again, and he felt relief flood through him as he approached.

She opened her mouth again, but this time pointed upwards as she did so.

"The daylight," she warned. "You've been wandering longer than you think. Within minutes, it will be upon you. I had tried to tell you this yesterday, but I could not before it was too late."

He felt panic enter his breast. "What can I do?" he asked, reaching forward and seizing her hands. "You must know, else you wouldn't have tried to warn me. Please tell me what to do!"

"There is a way to extend the time you spend dreaming in these gardens," she said, squeezing his hands back and offering a gentle smile. "You must find the northern court and the trees which grow there. Upon them you will find a round purple fruit. This fruit has the ability to let dreamers keep their dreams, for as long as they wish. You could stay here as long as you liked. Be aware, however, that you are now within the south court, and to find this fruit you must travel to the other end of the gardens. You may not have the time!"

"I have to try!" he cried, letting go of her hands and turning to run from the courtyard. "I know I will be with you again soon, whether I succeed or not--and if not, then I will simply try again then!"

Story incomplete

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