Dream Worlds – #4

I just finished writing a scene where Jenna has a dream, and it got me thinking about the many ways I could use this dream (and perhaps others) to provide you with clues, foreshadow events to come, and let you see things that Jenna herself isn’t aware of – yet. Some things may not make sense to you at the time, but all of them have a direct connection to the story.

Dream Components

Do you dream in color or black and white? I wanted Jenna’s dream to be full of sensory details, so her dream is in color and full of things like the wind off the sea, the motion of her climbing up a steep, sandy bank, and the pricking of her fingers on thistles as she struggles toward the top. Jenna’s dream occurs at night, but a full moon provided all of the light I needed. (FYI – I dream in color.)

Can You Return?

If your dream is interrupted because you wake up, can you return to it when you fall back to sleep? I can, but not always. Perhaps it depends on the intensity of the dream and probably a lot of scientific and/or psychological factors that I know nothing about. In Jenna’s case, part of her dream is chaotic and doesn’t make much sense, so she dismisses it. But the part of her dream just before she wakes up (thanks to Viggo, her cat) is the part she tries to return to, but can’t. She really wants to get back to this part!

It would be unfair to share all of this with you and then not let you see what it is that Jenna wanted to return to. So here is the last part of her dream right before Viggo wakes her up!

It was a man so handsome she felt herself gasp in her sleep. He was tall and muscular, towering over her as he stopped and took in the full measure of her before meeting her gaze. The candle he held in his hand cast an amber glow on his strong, chiseled face. He wore a white, open-neck tunic, black pants and leather boots that reached to his knees. His hair was as black as the night with untamed waves resting on his broad, muscular shoulders. In contrast, his beard and moustache were neatly trimmed, and the curls of dark hair at the opening of the tunic’s collar moved with the rise and fall of his chest.

            He moved closer, bringing the scent of ale, wood smoke, and male muskiness with him. Leaning forward, his dark eyes sparkled as he offered an ever-so-slight smile. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in a deep, soft whisper.

Until next time …

Image credit: Anne K. Hawkinson


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