In which dreams imitate life

My husband, some friends and I were trapped in a house. There was no exit. It was a game, but we didn’t know the rules. We couldn’t leave until someone won. We spent days, weeks, months going through motions, going from friends to increasingly agitated individuals to near-enemies. Alliances formed. Drama everywhere. It was Big Brother without an audience, and the only prize would be to someday leave the house but keep going, taking with us whatever lessons we’d learned. The fights escalated until my friend punched his wife in the nose. A swollen nose was how you won the game. She was thrilled. /Dream

Advertisements
  1. Brilliant. I love dream plots

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: