"Dreams"- A short story...completed.

I raised my clenched fist to the weathered door. My heart was pounding at such a high decibel that it droned out the few reverberating thoughts I had skipping about my skull. I was scared, nervous… but anxiously anticipating what I would find. Slowly I began to tap on the large door. *rattatattat* My knuckles grazed the sunken-grain and small splinters of wood chipped off and fell round’ my toes. 

Instead of hearing the old familiar “creak” of the door being thrown open, I was greeted by: deafening silence. No one came to answer, no one acknowledged my knocking...I was...alone. However, Instead of turning to leave, I raised my fist again and increased the force of my pounding. *Bang * *Bang* *Bang* “I know you’re in there!” I felt myself shout. “I know you’re in there, please, please come out!” *Pound* *Pound* *Pound* I dropped my hand and quickly placed my ear up against the rough wood. It prickled my ear-lobe, but I didn’t care, I was too intent on straining to hear a scrap of welcoming noise…

“Excuse me, sonny.” A raspy voice greeted my available ear. My neck snapped around to face the mouth from which came the uninvited salutation. He was a small, elderly man, about 5’4 with a long braided beard that slung carelessly over his left shoulder. He smelled of sassafras roots and clasped an expertly whittled walking stick, much larger than himself. “Yes?” I replied curiously. “I don’t...well...I don't think you’ll find them here.” He said using his wrinkled finger to motion towards the bleak distance. “They’ve gone on..."

“What do you mean they’ve gone on!?” I demanded. “I only left them for awhile, they can’t be far!” In desperation, I stepped towards the old hermit and grasped him by his small and fragile shoulders. “Tell me where they’ve gone, I must find them...I…I need them.” My demanding tone had now turned into a pitiful whimper as I felt my throat tighten and my eyes begin to cloud with salty tears. My gaze shifted to the ground as I felt an overwhelming sense of failure and disgrace wash over my being. How did I get to this deplorable state?    

The old man lifted his chin and gazed pensively into my pathetic condition. “You know you brought this on yourself, kid.” He said gently, placing his walking-stick against the large door. “You saw this coming, you saw them leaving…and yet you chose to ignore.” He loosened my clutch on his shoulders and took my hands warmly in his wrinkled paws. “I know, I know.” I blubbered. “I simply didn’t think they would ever go too far.” At this point, the weight of my own humiliation was too much to bear; I sank to my knees and sadly placed my head in my hands. This was my fault…I let my dreams get away...I was solely to blame. “What, what can I do?” I mumbled from behind my fingers. “All my hopes, dreams and wishes for life…are gone.”  

The little old man unlatched a pocket on the front of his vest, pulled out a well-used smoking pipe and stuck it between his white teeth. With pipe dangling from his wrinkled lips he slowly plopped himself on a comfortable adjacent dirt-pile. “Well, you see, boy…that’s the thing about dreams, when one leaves…another’s not far off.” Curiously, I looked up at him- he exhaled a puff of spicy smelling smoke into the cool breeze “Just don’t let the next ones get away, kid…” I looked off into the distance and sighed heavily in agreement. "Oh, and for goodness sakes..." He grumbled as he motioned to the thick door that stood behind us "don't lock the next ones up in there."  

What are the dreams that you let get away? What are the dreams that you've locked far, far away? I challenge you to re-visit a couple of those dreams today. 

Lots of Loves,