dreams

My Prayer

The following is by Writers in the Grove member, Patti Bond.

I wish people would be
happy all around us.

I wish the world’s population
would stop fighting and putting
fellow human beings down.

I wish we would be
content.

I wish we would be
heard by all people.

I wish we would listen
to the needs of each other.

I wish we would see people
for who they are.

I wish miracles would happen
every day and that they could
be seen by everyone.

I wish peace and tranquility
for all.

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Prompt: He Lies

The following was written by Writers in the Grove member, Lorelle VanFossen, inspired by Prompt: Write About a Dream.

He says he doesn’t dream. Never. No memories of dreams. Ever.

He lies.

I awake to find him jumping on the bed, hitting the wall. “I got it! I got it!” He shouts at shadows.

“Rough night last night?”

“Nope. Slept like a baby.”

He lies.

Woke to murmuring sounds, cursing. He’s kneeling on the floor picking up invisible things from the floor, carefully placing each on his naked lap. I vaguely recall spilling a box of straight pins onto the carpet a week ago.

“You were up in the night picking things off the floor.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was fast asleep.”

He lies.

After a long international flight home from a business trip, he discussed engineering specs with me in bed. In France, he tried to straighten the pictures bolted to the wall. On Orcas Island, shadows brought screams of something in the tent. After his grandmother died, he ripped the bed apart, me in it, screaming and looking for her.

“You talked in your sleep again last night.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You do. You do so often.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

He doesn’t believe me.

He lies.