The Nightmare The nightmare that turned my world around... It was a cold, winter’s night, a work night for me. My normal routine was to get up at five thirty in the morning and start getting ready for the long day that awaited. This particular morning I had no need for an alarm clock. I woke at 5am in a cool bedroom, sweating, scared senseless, and eyes darting around the dancing shadows of the dark room. In the dream, I was walking through a city park on an extremely cold night. I’m not sure what time it was, but the big city was asleep; no one around except me. I saw a big fountain in the center of the park. On any normal day, perhaps a warm, sunny, spring afternoon, this fountain would be beautiful; water flowing from its overfilled, giant cup formed top to its wide, round pool at the bottom, where people might sit around its concrete base and look at the water, or even toss a penny for a wish. But this night, there were no spring flowers and no sunshine; only the dim glow of yellow street lamps shining down on the frozen water of the fountain. But there was something else; something unusual that drew me in for a closer look. Draped over the side of the pool, I saw a bright red jacket that someone apparently had left by accident. I walked over for a closer look and that’s when I saw something else. Under the thick, clear ice, there was the body of a black man, wearing what I could barely make out to be a football jersey with large white numbers. He was buried under the ice! Then I saw another body next to his; an old woman, then another and another. This fountain’s pool was filled with bodies, twenty, thirty or more, like frozen fish in a bucket! That’s when I felt its presence. I can’t tell you what it was. I looked around and saw nothing but the surrounding trees and the lonely, yellowish glow of the sidewalk under the street lamps. But there was something very real and very evil. I could feel it approaching, getting closer and closer. I started running. From what, I didnt know, but it was right behind me. I could feel it gaining on me. I could feel the hot breath breathing down my back as I ran as fast as I could to the distant, crowded lobby of a nearby hotel. The dream brought me up in the sweat soaked sheets like a clown popping up at the end of Pop Goes the Weasel. That nightmare put me on track to where I am today. I wrote the dream down while it was still fresh in my mind, and gradually, over time, added to it. Today that nightmare is the first story in my book, Nightly Visits, and it’s called Glasswalker. By NIGHTLY VISITS Author : Stephen Helmes For your copy of Nightly Visits : amazon/Nightly-Visits-Stephen-Helmes/dp/1493165526/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1396559626&sr=8-1&keywords=nightly+visits Stephen Helmes Interview : thenewsinbooks/stephen-helmes-on-being-a-milkman-a-musician-and-a-writer/ InD’Tale Magazine says Nightly Visits I excellent with a 4 star rating! indtale/reviews/other/nightly-visits fantasysfreviews/author-spotlight/ A Conversation with Stephen Helmes About his Band, Writing, and Stephen King - thenewsinbooks/house-of-flies-writing-and-stephen-king-guest-post-by-stephen-helmes/
Posted on: Wed, 15 Oct 2014 21:30:43 +0000
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