Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Light and Dark (05/21/09)
- TITLE: DARK DREAM NEW DAWN
By Bryan Rudolph
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DARK DREAM NEW DAWN
Have you ever been somewhere, desperately wanting to flee and to stay, at the same moment? Jane Cyr was a product of just such thoughts, as she stood alone, haplessly staring at the remnant reminder of her best friend: a wet white memorial stone, heading clumsily knitted folds of cool dark earth. A searching sun was shyly seeping through low-lying interlocking clouds, compassionate clouds, that had just previously released the same tears, as attending mourners, during a funeral service that had, only a breath away, fully closed.
" Did you know that person? "
Jane, stilled by relentless realization of eternal loss, turned grudgingly behind her and slowly saw a quietly approaching stranger.
" Yes, yes, I did, " Jane murmured, too low to hear.
" A friend? "
" A most excellent friend. "
The stranger now at her side.
" The same for me. "
Surprised, Jane‘s interest was piqued.
" Did you know him, as well? " she asked, as if seeking companionship.
" I'm speaking of my other friend's funeral. "
" Your other friend? "
" Yes, during her funeral, I was the one in the coffin. "
Jane’s warming countenance chilled instantly, her heart now pumping panic.
" You? . . . You, were in the coffin? "
" Yes. "
" What do you mean, you were in the coffin? What possibly could . . . "
" Well, what I mean, actually, is that my spirit was with her. "
" Oh, your spirit; yes, yes, of course. Your spirit . . . " Jane stuttered, half relieved, half distraught.
" It was you, Jane, . . . who was in the coffin. "
" I . . . was in the coffin? Who are you? How do you know my name? "
" It was your funeral. "
" My funeral? Excuse me, but you’re . . . "
" Let me explain. "
Jane knew she had to get away, and get away . . . now!
" There is nothing to explain. Have a good day, " she uttered, exasperated at not having yet departed from this lunatic.
" How else would . . . you . . . explain it? "
" Explain what? How else would I explain . . . what? " Jane demanded, her brain blowing with bewilderment.
" Look at the name on the memorial stone. "
" Where? Which one? What are you talking about? "
" The one in front of you. "
Jane’s strained eyes obediently riveted to the white stone.
It read: in loving memory . . . of dearly deceased . . . JANE CYR.
" Jane! Wake up, Jane! You're having a nightmare. Wake up, dear. "
Jane snapped awake. It was all a dream, a dark dream; she was relieved to feel the warmth of the room’s bright light streaming to her face.
" You won’t believe it, Mom, the dream I just had. This . . . was telling me . . . why are you smiling? "
" Oh, Mother! Oh, my goodness! Oh, my . . . good joy! " Jane exclaimed, ignited by the full revelation of her new dawn.
Twelve years, seven months, and three days, after the death of her mother, Jane had reunited.
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