Dream Journal 1

<body topmargin="0" leftmargin="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" height="100%"> <tr> <td valign="top" width="105" bgcolor="#111111" text="#F7F7FF"> <div><img src="143a55400.jpg" border="0" width="85" height="64" align="bottom" hspace="0" vspace="0"></div><br> <div><img src="126639310.gif" border="0" width="57" height="49" align="bottom" hspace="0" vspace="0"></div><br> <br> </td> <td valign="top" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" text="#080000" background="079cb9a3.jpg"> <div> <b>Dream Journal 1</b> </div> <div></div> <div> <script type="text/javascript" language="JavaScript1.2" src="stm31.js"></script> </div> <div> <script type="text/javascript" language="JavaScript1.2">  </script> </div> <div></div><br> <br> <div><img src="19140400.gif" border="0" width="64" height="64" align="bottom" hspace="0" vspace="0"></div> <div> <i><b>the moon never beams</b></i> </div> <div> <i><b>without bringing me</b></i> </div> <div> <i><b>dreams..</b></i> </div><br> <br> <br> <br> <div> <a href="#the_blackbirds" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Blackbirds</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_painting" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Painting</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#winter_wonderland" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Winter Wonderland</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_unbreakable_spirit" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Unbreakable Spirit</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_laughing_princess" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Laughing Princess</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_play_within_the_play" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Play Within the Play</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#paradise_by_the_sea" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Paradise by the Sea</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_girl_on_the_beach" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Girl on the Beach</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_avenging_angel" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Avenging Angel</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#sweet_home_chicago" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Sweet Home, Chicago</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_apartment" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Apartment</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#night_flight" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Night Flight</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_wheat_fields" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Wheat Fields</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_chase" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Chase</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#nantucket" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Nantucket</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#rock_star" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>Rock Star</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_taffy_rainshower" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Taffy Rainshower</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_end" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The End</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_divorce_case" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Divorce Case</b></u></a> </div> <div> <a href="#the_grapefruit_moon" title="Dream Journal 1"><u><b>The Grapefruit Moon</b></u></a> </div><br> <div> <b></b> <hr align="center" size="2"> </div> <div> <b> <a name="the_blackbirds" id="the_blackbirds"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a></b> </div> <div> <i><b>The Blackbirds</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">The sky grows dark. I'm standing outside a friend's apartment. The door opens. He leads me in. There's a large gathering of people. I know them. I move through the room, talking and shaking hands. Something's not right. Their attitudes are ... different. The girls are overly flirtatious, bending to the will of the men. The guys are arrogant and caustic. I'm just an observer - seemingly invisible to the unfolding storm. A girl of 20, long dark hair and pale skin, is led outside by a man whose identity is now clear to me. I follow. He flirts with her, seducing with his charm. She sit down on the grass. He kisses her and gently pushes her back. "Do you like this?", he asks, his hand massaging her skin. I want to tell her who he is. I just watch. He kisses her again. The sky is swirling with dark energy. She rejects him. She rises to her feet and laughs, "I don't think so". With that, the darkness begins to take shape - a sky full of blackbirds heading South. I've never seen so many. There must be millions as far as the eye can see. As soon as they're gone from view, the sky returns to a beautiful blue. Satan disappears.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_painting" id="the_painting"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Painting</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I stand before an ancient painting that has been unearthed and is now on display at the museum. I’m there as a tourist. I’m reading from a book about the period – an Arab text that dates back several thousand years. What I don’t know is that the words in the book are a “key” to the power behind the painting. The true title of the painting is “The Gate” – the entrance to Hell.. As I read from the text, the painting slowly breathes life.</p> </div> <div> <b> <a name="winter_wonderland" id="winter_wonderland"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a></b> </div> <div> <i><b>Winter Wonderland</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing in a courtyard. Red brick and ivy surround me. It's Winter. The snow is falling. I walk out into the yard and realize that I'm at a University - Harvard, perhaps. The sky is dark. The moon is full. I am completely at peace as I wander past the buildings, my boots kicking through the snow. I sense that I'm not alone. I turn to see what looks like an angel smiling back at me - a ghostly Muse so pure and beautiful. She's dressed in white. "Sleep", she says. "I'm here".</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_unbreakable_spirit" id="the_unbreakable_spirit"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Unbreakable Spirit</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I suspect that this dream has something to do with the trailers for the upcoming film "Unbreakable", but ... maybe not. In any case, I'm an observer in this dream. It starts with a plane crash. Two pilots are trying desperately to right their plane, but I can see that we're going to crash into a field. I watch, standing behind the two of them, as the plane spirals and spirals until hitting the ground. The pilot is thrown from the plane. I'm now standing in the field, looking down at him. Fire is everywhere. He's crawling out of the wreckage. Part of the plane comes down on him again, but.. he's ok. He pushes it off and dusts himself off. He seems confused. He's without a scratch. I watch as this white ... spirit leaves his body and soars off out of view. He's ok.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I'm now standing on a train platform, waiting for a train. It's evening. The sky is dark. I seem to be the only one on the platform. I'm not there to catch a train, though. I have a feeling that someone wants me to observe something. I wait. The train pulls into the station. A gentleman gets off, approaches me and asks for the time. "6:43pm", I say. He thanks me, smiles and walks to his car. As he crosses the street, a car hits him. His body is sent flying. The driver gets out, horrified, and rushes to see if he's ok. The man stands, dusts himself off and ... seems confused. "Uh.. yeah, thanks", he says. My mind replays the plane crash, the dust off.. the ... spirit. I turn to see a white flash soar from the man's body and up off into the sky. He's ok.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I'm back at the scene of the plane crash. I can hear the sirens off in the distance. I look to see the pilot sitting nearby, trying to make sense of everything. I close my eyes and feel a hand on my shoulder - a warm, comforting hand. "It's time for you to help them". It's a whisper that fills my soul with great peace. I turn around into a white flash of light. And then it's gone...</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_laughing_princess" id="the_laughing_princess"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Laughing Princess</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing in the middle of a desert. The sun is beating down on me. I look down to see that I'm on a horse. An army of soldiers are massed behind me - thousands on horseback. I give the signal and we tear off through the sand. The King has informed me that the Princess has been taken hostage and is being held in the castle. I have to get to her. The King knows that I am in love with his daughter. The wind is fierce. The sky bleeds fire. We arrive at the castle and fight through a wall of soldiers. My sword is raised. My body is saturated with their blood. I make it past them. I climb the walls of the castle. My heart is beating fast. I get to the window and look in and ... and .. the Princess is laughing with her "abductor". They break into a deep, passionate kiss.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I close my eyes and fall back into the dark abyss of my soul...</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_play_within_the_play" id="the_play_within_the_play"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Play Within the Play</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm in a small, heavily wooded town in Wisconsin. In this dream, I play a dual role - observer and main character. My name is Charlie Fernandez. I'm a Chicago cop on vacation. I check into a bed and breakfast for my stay. The entire dream is a play. I'm a character. The line, though, between reality and make believe is blurred. It doesn't feel like a play. My character isn't necessarily aware that he has a starring role in this unfolding drama. As an observer, I can tell it's a play, but.. Charlie can't.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">This scenic little town has its secrets and they're very nervous that Charlie is going to discover something that they've worked hard to keep buried. This play within a play ends up being a brilliant piece of modern theater. As Charlie sits and eats his dinner, the locals act out a play in the middle of the B&B's diner. The roles: the B&B owner, the waitress, the desk clerk, the local drunk and two young guys who end the story by recreating (as though a flashback) the night they killed a friend in a fistfight at the diner (the secret). It seems those who were there buried the body and the boy ended up "missing". These two kids were star athletes. Not once does Charlie attempt to uncover anything. He's there for his vacation. The play, though, must have its final act.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="paradise_by_the_sea" id="paradise_by_the_sea"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>Paradise by the Sea</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm in a car perched on a hill. I look down. It's maybe the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. I've somehow stumbled into a living dream - a setting so undeniably ... PERFECT. It's a seaside town, awash in simplicity. I can't figure out where I am, though. Is it California? England? I coast down the hill toward a blue ocean that makes me want to weep. To my left, I see a grassy cliff that juts up and out to sea. The beach - a wide, powdery-white stretch of sand - lies directly in front of me. My car takes the turn, heading right. To my left, a dominating hill rises above the town with cliffs 800ft high. I notice an old, storied hotel perched on the cliff. I notice the county courthouse, full of majesty, looming on the horizon.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I'm speechless as I come to the center of town. There's a "V" at the stoplight. If I keep to the right, I'll end up driving past the homes .... all the elm trees. I know this, but .. how could I? Have I been here before? If not, am I supposed to be? The downtown area is the very definition of "quaint". Everything is red brick. Gaslamps line the street. It's a large town, with plenty of hustle and bustle, but.. it doesn't FEEL too big. As I drive down Main Street, I pass soda shops and antique stores. It's a grander version of Galena, IL. The town looks like a snapshot in some history book, but it's alive with energy and .. MONEY. Every single building is in perfect condition. I see white churches that look like they've just been painted. The banks are elegant. The streets are clean.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_girl_on_the_beach" id="the_girl_on_the_beach"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Girl on the Beach</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing on a beach. It's daylight, but.. it looks and feels as though I'm in a cross between Tim Burton's "Sleepy Hollow" and a Monet painting. Everything has that ... airbrushed look to it. I look out at the ocean. It's a collage of blues and greens. I turn to my right and see a girl walking towards me. Everything is in slow motion. I hear the wind whispering to me. Damn she's beautiful. She moves like a panther, her eyes dark as night. She stands before me, smiling. I feel as if my body is floating. I want to speak, but there are no words. I want to tell her how much I love her... how much I need her. She just smiles. I close my eyes just for a moment. Thunder rumbles through my soul. Her black hair falls long. She turns and she is gone, taking with her my last breath.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_avenging_angel" id="the_avenging_angel"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Avenging Angel</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm an observer in the first half of this dream. I find myself standing in a bedroom. A Mother and her two daughters are sleeping soundly. I'm in the corner of the room.... waiting. The door opens. Two men in black walk quietly to the bed and pull their guns. It's quick. It's painless. The Mother dies along with her two children. I'm a witness to a Mob hit. As soon as the bullets fly, I go from observer to main character. I'm now the enforcer of the "family" that has taken the hit. I take the rest of the children and move them out of the house. We get into a car. We head down the highway. I know they're coming for me. I've interfered with things. I leave the kids with a trusted friend and make sure "they" follow me to my final destination.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">It's an old Victorian home. I have no idea where I am, but.. it doesn't matter. They're coming. I position weapons throughout the house. Night falls. I turn out all the lights, save one. I hear the cars pull up. I hear the men soldiering up the drive. I take my spot on the roof. They kick the door in. I aim for the parked cars and fire - five bullets with a silencer. I manage to kill their men without a sound. I make my way back into the house. One of the men comes into the bedroom. I break his neck. I grab his gun and make my way into the hallway. I kill another man as he comes up the stairs. I make my way down to the first floor. I wait. Two men circle around and end up at the front door. I reach into one of the shelves where I stashed a knife. I throw it at one of them, killing him with a perfect shot to his heart. As the other man rushes toward me, I pull my gun and fire three shots into his body. He dies instantly.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I open the door and step outside. The moon is full. I'm exhausted. I'm spent. I see a car pull up into the drive. It's the Mother I watched die. She walks up to me. She's smiling. She thanks me for having retaliated. I tell her that they're all dead. She smiles and reaches into her purse. "Excellent", she says. With that, she pulls a gun and fires into my chest. "Sorry", she says, "but.. it's better this way". I fall to the ground. She gets in her car and steals away. The snow begins to fall. I can feel my soul giving way...</p> </div> <div>  <a name="sweet_home_chicago" id="sweet_home_chicago"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>Sweet Home, Chicago</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm in a vintage convertible on Lake Shore Drive. It's September. It seems that I'm a character in a show based here. Without being aware of the cameras, I know I'm being taped. I'm talking to the guy in the passenger seat - my "Father". He's telling me how great I have it here in Chicago - that there's no town like it. As he's telling me this, I now find myself on Wacker Drive. We pull up to the edge of the river and get out. We hop onto a boat and I now see things through the eyes of the camera. I see the long, winding river. I see the clear blue lake. I see Grant Park. I see the skyscrapers towering above me. I feel the energy of the city coarsing through my veins. Maybe he's right. And... CUT!".</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_apartment" id="the_apartment"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Apartment</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm in an apartment complex. It's kind of an old place, a bit run down. It seems that I live here. I make my way downt the hall to my "place". An apartment door is wide open. I look in and see this sweet little girl standing there, smiling at me. I wave to her. I look past her to the walls of her apartment. Nazi symbols line the walls. A quote is scrawled on the wall in big bold letters. It says "The past teaches us everything". Below it is a large poster of Hitler. Feeling a little spooked, I continue on to my apartment. "Hello", I hear. I turn around to see the girl's Mother standing in her doorway. She's beautiful. She looks like a hippie - long blond hair, tie-dyed shirt. "Hello", I say. She points to my apartment and asks if I live there. I tell her that I do. She says.. "We've heard stories that the place is haunted or ... that it's just truly wierd. My little girl tells me that she sees bright flashes of light under your door at night". I look to the door of my apartment and tell her that she must be talking about the last person to live there. I tell her that I just moved in.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">Feeling more at ease now, she invites me in for a drink. I can't help but stare at the walls. As I enter her apartment, I feel a sudden wave of energy swell around me. I feel uncomfortable, and it shows. She asks me what's wrong. I point to the Nazi paraphernalia and ask her what that quote means on the wall... "The past teaches us everything". I'm not sure if she's FOR the Nazi cause or against it. She smiles and pours me my drink. She asks me what I think about it. I tell her that Hitler was sick. I go off on the Nazi movement for a minute or two before calming down. The walls of her apartment turn black. I back towards the door and tell her that I have to be going. Once inside my apartment, I bolt the door and doublelock it. Just then a hurricane force of wind blows my door open and knocks me against the wall. The sky grows dark. My window shatters and the wind tries to suck me through the window .. to my death. I hold on for dear life. I hold on and hold on and hold on until, finally.. the wind disappears. The sun comes out. The window is fine. It's as if nothing happened. I open the door to the hallway and the Mother is standing at her doorway with her little girl. They're not alone this time. A tall gentleman is standing behind them. He smiles at me and says.. "Hello. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?". I make my way past their apartment, unsure of what just happened. As I near the stairs, I hear his voice whisper down the hallway... "We'll be seeing you".</p> </div> <div>  <a name="night_flight" id="night_flight"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>Night Flight</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">It's night. I'm flying over the city. It's the future. Skyscrapers average 500 stories. Everyone's asleep or getting ready to sleep. The city stretches as far as the eye can see. There are no cars out. There are no pedestrians walking the sidewalks down below. There is just ... silence. As I float past the buildings, I catch glimpses here and there - a man shaving before bed, a couple arguing in their kitchen, a girl looking out her window. It's a peaceful feeling.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_wheat_fields" id="the_wheat_fields"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Wheat Fields</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing in a wheat field. The colors of this dream are straight out of a Van Gogh painting, with the sky and surrounding hills appearing in thick brush strokes. I hear children laughing. I look to see a Mother and her three little girls playing, their golden retriever following behind. The wind breezes through my mind. I begin to hear something, though - something ... out of place.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I hear a humming sound, but I can't place it. Butterfiles dance around me. The sound picks up, growing louder. The sky takes on a darker stroke. Clouds form. Darkness falls. I see bright, flashing lights behind the clouds. The sound is intense now - a very strong vibration. The colors are magnificent - reds and blues flashing hard and fast. The clouds part and I see it now... it's a spaceship. I turn to look at the Mother and her three girls, then it's gone - all of it. The sky is a brilliant blue again. No clouds. No sound. I'm back to just standing in a wheat field on a breezy afternoon.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_chase" id="the_chase"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Chase</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing in a second floor motel room. It's evening. The window is open. I'm looking down to an alley below. I hear a knock at the door. Silence. The door is kicked in. I see two men in suits pulling their guns. I jump out the window to the ground below. A car turns on its headlights and comes screaming down the alley towards me. I dive out of the way and turn to look back at the window. The two men point to me. I start running. I run straight into the woods. I hear something breathing down my neck, but it's not human. I see red eyes glowing at me from behind trees. I'm running fast. My heart is racing. I hear the sound of bats flapping their wings. I come upon a dirt road. I stop to catch my breath. I turn around to see a vampire creature about to pounce on me. Headlights flash. The creature disappears. A car tries to run me down. It misses me. I'm lying face down on the side of the road. I open my eyes to get up and see that I'm now back at the motel. An elderly clerk with a wide grin is standing behind the counter. "Will you be staying another night, sir?", he asks.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="nantucket" id="nantucket"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>Nantucket</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm on Nantucket island. I'm standing downtown, the cobblestone beneath my feet. The stores are all so charming. I watch the flight of a seagull, following its every move. I make my way to the beach. It's a gorgeous day. The sun is happy in the sky. The surf beckons in the distance. A small sand dune rises before me. I climb to the other side. The sea is perfectly blue. The waves pound at the shore. I pick up the flight of the seagull again, watching it come to rest on a cherry-red surfboard. The smell of cocoa butter mixed with the salty air is too much for me - an overdose of heavenly scents. I sit down and smile, basking in a lovely day at the beach.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="rock_star" id="rock_star"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>Rock Star</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm just an observer in this dream - invisible to the participants. We have Bono of U2, Bruce Springsteen , Bon Jovi and Sting. We also have a Penthouse Pet, a group of sleeping teenage girls, their Mother and massive street riots. What's going on? Well.. It seems that the boys have found themselves on tour in Argentina for Amnesty International. During their stay, a battle breaks out between the underground movement and those in power. Bono and the boys are caught in between. They take refuge in the home of a teenage girl. The Penthouse Pet? She's there with Bon Jovi.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">As Bono looks out the window, fires blaze and cars are overturned. It's a revolution. Holed up for the night, Bono and Sting get into a lengthy conversation. Bruce is asleep. Bon Jovi and his near naked Penthouse friend are on the bed discussing the finer points of frozen pizza. The girls are asleep in the bedroom. Bono turns to Sting and jokingly declares.. "Well, quite an eclectic bunch of folks we have here tonight. This is ... this is all wrong", he states, sarcastically. "We're in a house with a slumber party full of teenage girls and not one of them is awake". He laughs, then continues. "I'm a rock star. I demand an audience". He takes a drag of his cigarette and breaks out into a wide grin. With that, he grabs a microphone (yeah, well.. it's a dream) and begins singing some tortured prisoner of conscience song. The girls wake up and join him in the hall. The Mother sits in, as well. As she listens to Bono sing, she realizes the strength of his music. Bruce shakes his head and laughs. Sting falls asleep. The Penthouse Pet (wearing only a shirt) cries out, "I want some pizza!" as Bon Jovi falls back on the bed.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_taffy_rainshower" id="the_taffy_rainshower"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Taffy Rainshower</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm standing on a dirt road in the middle of the Utah desert. The sky is a brilliant yellow. A cobalt blue Moon is suspended above me. The smell of candy is all around me. Colors start dropping from the sky in the shape of little taffy nerfballs. I lean against my car and look up to the beautiful rainshower. Lavender balls bounce off the hood. I take a bite. Delicious. There must be thousands of them as far as the eye can see - banana yellow, peach, lime green, raspberry. I shake my head and smile.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_end" id="the_end"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The End</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I wake from a bad dream. I need a vacation, so I pack it up and head up the coast to a Mendocino-like town. It's picture-postcard perfect. The town is nearly surrounded by water, with cliffs that plunge 700ft to the crashing surf below. It has a waterfall the size of Niagra, as well. White homes. White stores. It looks like a perfectly preserved New England village. As soon as I arrive in town, I come across an old woman. She tells me that the place is cursed and gives me the full history. The story goes that a man named Seamus Heaney killed his young wife with an axe back in the 1930's. Locals claim that his wife has been luring men to their death since then (16 mysterious "suicides" over the past 70yrs). I thank her for the story and turn to walk away.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">She whispers.. "You're going to meet .. the end".</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">I walk through town and am absolutely spellbound by its beauty. I feel the wind pick up. The leaves rustle at my feet. As I walk along the cliff, I notice that I'm all alone. I don't see anyone in town or down on the beach. Day quickly changes to night. I see a bar on the cliff - "Taylor's". I make my way inside. I order a Guinness. A beautiful girl sits down beside me. She has long black hair, dark eyes. She seems out of place in this bar. We talk. After an hour or so, she mentions that it's a nice night to sit outside. I agree. We head to the back patio - facing the sea. She takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the cliff. She turns to kiss me. The kiss breaks. I notice a gold necklace she's wearing that reads... "The End". She smiles and pushes me to my death.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_divorce_case" id="the_divorce_case"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Divorce Case</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm just an observer in this dream. I'm in Georgia. Two lawyers from Atlanta find themselves representing a custody case - where the wife claims that she lives "in fear" of her husband. They're fighting over their little girl, Clare (age 2). The two laywers are close - Jack and Caitlin. They're both in their early 30's, too involved with their work to realize how attracted they are to each other. The case can only be heard in Texas, but the husband and wife refuse to fly. So.. Jack (representing the wife) and Caitlin (representing the husband) take separate cars and escort them.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">As they cross state lines, Jack begins to take pity on the wife. Caitlin, in her conversations with the man, sees him as utterly charming. She suspects that he just might be the victim in some little domestic game. At every stop, Jack and Caitlin discuss the case. Jacks tries to persuade Caitlin that the husband is not to be trusted. Caitlin takes the opposite view - that it is the WIFE who is not to be trusted. They decide to stop for the night in Louisiana. One of Jack's friends has given him an old Antebellum home and guesthouse for the night. Jack and the girls take the house; Caitlin and the husband take the guesthouse.</p> </div> <div> <p align="justify">The night is hot. The air is thick with humidity. Jack can't sleep, so he takes a walk. As he passes a row of old oak trees, a body jumps out of the darkness and wrestles him to the ground. It's the husband. They fight. Jack reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a pen. He plunges it into the husband's chest. He watches, helplessly, as the husband grabs a large rock ... raises it high in the air, then ... knocks Jack unconscious. He wakes moments later to see the house in flames. He hears the husband crying out for his baby girl, "Daddy's coming for you". Jack rises to his feet and notices a gun beside him, buried in the leaves. He realizes that the husband must have dropped it. Bleeding, he stumbles towards the house. He sees the wife slumped on the front porch. She hands him the child and pleads with him, "Forget about me... Just make sure she's safe - that he doesn't get her". Jack tells her to stay calm - that he'll be right back. He takes the baby and rushes to get the child to Caitlin, but... out of the corner of his eye, he sees the husband turn the corner of the house. He watches him rush towards his wife, pipe in hand. The husband smiles and says... "Ohhhh, I'm sorry honey", he laughs. "I thought you LIKED a nice roaring fire". He smiles. "Time for you to die, BITCH!!!". He raises the pipe to strike her and... Jack pulls the gun and fires three shots. The husband falls to the ground.</p> </div> <div>  <a name="the_grapefruit_moon" id="the_grapefruit_moon"><img border="0" src="1x1.gif" height="1" align="bottom" width="1" hspace="0" vspace="0"></a> </div> <div> <i><b>The Grapefruit Moon</b></i> </div><br> <div> <p align="justify">I'm sitting on a park bench at night. It's Winter. I'm facing a large antique clock. I glance around the park, but see only darkness. The world is quiet. I hear only the tick tock... tick tock. I look up into the sky to a grapefruit moon. I watch as the moon begins to melt, dripping and falling and changing to gooey little moonflakes - showering down around me. I look back to the clock. It strikes Midnight and the church bells ring.</p> </div><br> </td> </tr> </table> </body>