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My reoccurring dream (standard:other, 760 words)
Author: Arthur RandallAdded: Apr 05 2003Views/Reads: 1543/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Some have had reoccuring dreams in their life while others never had that experience. Sit down and listen to one man as he tells you about his interesting reoccurring dream.
 



My Reoccurring Dream. 

Dreams.  What are they really?  Many people have often wondered that
throughout time.  I have to admit that I have wondered about the same 
thing a few times.  Some believe that it is your brain working overtime 
while others believe that it is your imagination unleashed in the land 
of sleep.  Who really knows for sure? 

Oh please excuse me.  I seem to have forgotten my manners.  Please sit
down and make yourself comfortable.  My name is Ted and I have an 
interesting story about a dream if you would like to hear it.  You 
would?  Good, just sit back and relax and listen to my tale.  As you 
can tell I have an interest in dreams.  It is a dream that I'm going to 
tell you about that I had a number of times and they same thing always 
happened. 

I'm sure that you know that there are many different kinds of dreams out
there.  Dreams of friends and relatives, dreams of past experiences or 
things you might like to experience.  Dreams can be both good and bad.  
The one I'm going to tell you about was not good. 

Before I tell you about it let me ask you this.  Have you ever heard
that if you die in a dream you die at the same time in real life?  If 
you have or not I'm telling you right now that it isn't true.  It's an 
old wives tale.  How do I know that you ask?  Simple.  I died in my 
reoccurring dream that I had. 

It started out like this.  I was in a huge area that looked like a mall.
A lot of people went about their business on their own errands.  Then 
without warning someone screamed and started to run.  I didn't hear 
exactly what was said.  I could only make out something about a bomb.  
Of course that started a panic and everyone started to run. 

I managed to fight through the crowd and I saw by a fountain was a small
brown cardboard box.  I don't know what came over me but I knew that I 
had to get the box out of there.  I figured that if I did it carefully 
enough I could get it out of the mall so no one would get hurt. 

I slowly approached it and I knelt down to it.  I picked up very
carefully, like it was made of a very rare fragile priceless treasure.  
I didn't know where to take it at first. All I knew was that I had to 
get it out of there and as soon as I could.  I never got the chance to 
do that. 

When I took two steps, the package exploded.  I felt no pain at all.  I
didn't even realize what had happened until it was over.  One moment I 
held the box in my hands and the next I was floating in the air. My 
body was gone.  It had been disintegrated from the blast.  Yet I was 
still floating and I could still hear and see.  Before I could do 
anything else, I woke up.  It was the strangest dream that I have ever 
had.  I had the dream seven more times. 

Is there a point to my story?  Yes there is in my opinion anyways.  Last
week when I was in a mall someone screamed and people went and 
panicked.  By a fountain I saw a small cardboard box.  Because of all 
the commotion and panic that surrounded me, I didn't have time to 
recall my dream.  I went to get the box out of the mall, just as I did 
in my dream.  My goal was to get it out of there before anyone could 
get hurt or killed.  I didn't get to do that.  There was one person 
killed. 

You see my friend it is not a living breathing man who is telling you
this story, but a spirit.  Or a ghost if you prefer.  It was a miracle 
that no one else was hurt and for that I'm thankful for. 

If there is a point to my story it is this.  Sometimes dreams that you
have over and over again can be premonitions into the future.  I don't 
know if you agree or not, but I think that it's an interesting story 
anyways. 

I do wonder about one thing.  Now that you have heard my tale, will you
think about the next reoccurring dream that you have, or reoccurring 
nightmare. 

The end. By Jamie McCann A.K.A. Arthur Randall. 


   


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