Crude Awakening
The sky was devoid of clouds, allowing the sunlight from above to pulsate casually onto the stale earth below. Caught in this unfortunate heatwave was a young man. He wandered throughout the desert expanse aimlessly, seeming to have no clue as to his whereabouts. His blue jeans contrasted well with the pale dirt that huddled around his feet, making him a beacon of color in a colorless landscape.
Eventually the man came upon a large rock face that stood many meters high. At its base were numerous stone crags - a somewhat intimidating installment of nature. He pressed forward until he reached the wall-like structure, finding sweet sanctuary under its shade. The man surmised that he would be there a while, trying to regain his energy, and found that he was also quite parched. He smoothed his chapped lips with the tips of his equally dry fingers. The man searched around the base of the rock, trying to find an entry or means of passage beyond its border.
After wondering around it for some time, he noticed a peculiar hole on one side of the face. It couldn't be natural, as it looked burrowed in and dug out. Unfortunately for the near grown person, only an arm could fit through. He tried peeking inside but it was fruitless, as the confines of the space were shrouded in a thick fog of darkness. The man knew the risk of trying to stick a limb into an unknown cavernous pit, but thought it best to give it a go anyway. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt as far back as it could go, and reached his arm into the space. By the time his shoulder was up against the opening, it occurred to him that the area inside was far larger than he anticipated. He feverishly flailed his hand around in an attempt to find some object to latch onto, but to no avail.
As he was about to retract his arm from the opening, something grabbed his wrist. He was petrified, believing that he had made a grave mistake, and that his life was now in jeopardy. Whatever it was, it had an amazing grip on him. He used up what little stamina he had left to try and pull free from the creature, but all he could do was struggle. Before he managed to catch his breathe, he was jerked again with incredible force. It heaved him so quickly, and with such strength, that the stone around the hole fell apart, leaving a space large enough for the mans body to fit. He wasn't given a chance to come to his senses, as the monster within wrenched the man once more, this time launching him into the base of the rock. The force was mighty enough to awaken him from his deep slumber.
His eyes scattered wildly, trying to find the beast that would devour him, but finding instead a few unimposing pillows, a large blanket, and a ceiling fan. His heart was pounding furiously, and beads of sweat were sliding down his cheeks. He turned to sit up, but was met with violent disorientation. The room spun in many circles, making his attempt to stand particularly difficult. Even when he got his footing and stood, the nausea lingered. The man's first instinct was to head to the bathroom - wash his face.
He splashed copious amounts of the cold tap water onto his face, feeling more aware after each handful. With his face sopping wet, and cheeks still flushed from his nightmare, the man raised his head to meet the large mirror above his sink. Before him was a man who looked like a wet dog, still panting heavily. For a moment, as he watched his own eyes, he couldn't be certain that such a dream were entirely unreal.
(I figured I would try to describe what it's like for a dream to be surreal enough to awaken the dreamer. This has happened to me a few times, and almost always, it would occur during deep sleep. So, when I woke up, I was really disoriented, and felt terrible.)
Eventually the man came upon a large rock face that stood many meters high. At its base were numerous stone crags - a somewhat intimidating installment of nature. He pressed forward until he reached the wall-like structure, finding sweet sanctuary under its shade. The man surmised that he would be there a while, trying to regain his energy, and found that he was also quite parched. He smoothed his chapped lips with the tips of his equally dry fingers. The man searched around the base of the rock, trying to find an entry or means of passage beyond its border.
After wondering around it for some time, he noticed a peculiar hole on one side of the face. It couldn't be natural, as it looked burrowed in and dug out. Unfortunately for the near grown person, only an arm could fit through. He tried peeking inside but it was fruitless, as the confines of the space were shrouded in a thick fog of darkness. The man knew the risk of trying to stick a limb into an unknown cavernous pit, but thought it best to give it a go anyway. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt as far back as it could go, and reached his arm into the space. By the time his shoulder was up against the opening, it occurred to him that the area inside was far larger than he anticipated. He feverishly flailed his hand around in an attempt to find some object to latch onto, but to no avail.
As he was about to retract his arm from the opening, something grabbed his wrist. He was petrified, believing that he had made a grave mistake, and that his life was now in jeopardy. Whatever it was, it had an amazing grip on him. He used up what little stamina he had left to try and pull free from the creature, but all he could do was struggle. Before he managed to catch his breathe, he was jerked again with incredible force. It heaved him so quickly, and with such strength, that the stone around the hole fell apart, leaving a space large enough for the mans body to fit. He wasn't given a chance to come to his senses, as the monster within wrenched the man once more, this time launching him into the base of the rock. The force was mighty enough to awaken him from his deep slumber.
His eyes scattered wildly, trying to find the beast that would devour him, but finding instead a few unimposing pillows, a large blanket, and a ceiling fan. His heart was pounding furiously, and beads of sweat were sliding down his cheeks. He turned to sit up, but was met with violent disorientation. The room spun in many circles, making his attempt to stand particularly difficult. Even when he got his footing and stood, the nausea lingered. The man's first instinct was to head to the bathroom - wash his face.
He splashed copious amounts of the cold tap water onto his face, feeling more aware after each handful. With his face sopping wet, and cheeks still flushed from his nightmare, the man raised his head to meet the large mirror above his sink. Before him was a man who looked like a wet dog, still panting heavily. For a moment, as he watched his own eyes, he couldn't be certain that such a dream were entirely unreal.
(I figured I would try to describe what it's like for a dream to be surreal enough to awaken the dreamer. This has happened to me a few times, and almost always, it would occur during deep sleep. So, when I woke up, I was really disoriented, and felt terrible.)
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