Imperfections
Dreams
I often wonder what dreams are about or if they’re trying to convey any deep messages to help us through life. Yes, I often wonder about dreams. I wonder about how our minds can display our desires, our fears, people that we’ve lost, people that we haven’t met yet in perfect detail. Many people cannot remember our dreams perfectly, the dreams become fuzzy and we can’t remember the people, the scenery, the plot, the surrealism of it. I have to admit, that even some of my dreams become fuzzy and confused, but last night I recall it with perfect detail…
It was dark, a breeze came softly through the open window. It felt as if it was summertime, for the air was warm and slightly humid. A thin layer of sweat came over my body, but the breeze made me shiver. I got up.
After closing the window, I turned to go back to the bed when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. A woman had been sleeping next to me, with natural blonde hair, and a slight tan to her skin. I carefully walked closer and noticed something – with her legs under the sheets it looked as though she only had one leg. I figured that she simply had her legs positioned strangely, but I was curious, so I lifted the sheets.
I was wrong; there was only a stump of a leg from about her mid-thigh.
Suddenly the woman rolled over from her stomach to her back and made a small mewling sound. I looked at her face and noticed that she was particularly hot, but was still pretty. She had freckles all across her nose and cheeks, and a pixie like nose. Her lips were full, but not too full, and her ears poked out just a little bit.
I sat down back on the mattress and just watched her. She seemed so peaceful, so content, but I couldn’t figure out why I was sleeping in the same bed as her.
I wasn’t the type to sleep with pretty girls; I slept with hot, sexy women. I didn’t really like blondes all that much, they were usually ditzy – I preferred a gorgeous red-head or even a brunette. Freckles were not my thing; I liked perfect skin on women. But most of all, I did not sleep with a woman who didn’t have all four limbs.
Then why was she sleeping next to me in – what I presume to be – my bed?
She made a small mewling sound again, and her eyes fluttered open. In the darkness, her eyes appeared to be a shade of brown. I even disliked girls with brown eyes. If I was ever to procreate, I would hate for my children to have brown eyes, because it’s just so common.
This girl was everything I didn’t look for in a woman, except here she was in my bed. The only question I held for myself now was, what did she have that other women didn’t? Obviously there had to be some sort of answer to this.
“Honey, what are you doing awake?” she asked with a smile on her face.
She looked at me with admiration and love. I couldn’t figure it out, why was she here in my dream?
“I’ve, uh, just been thinking,” I replied to the woman.
Her facial expression immediately became worried from my tone. She looked down at the bedding and began to fiddle with sheet. “Thinking about what?” she asked. She wouldn’t look up at me, or even glance in my direction. She just fiddled with the sheet waiting for my response.
I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt bad. She looked like she was at her breaking point, and that if I were to say the wrong thing, then that would be the tip of the iceberg for her. I thought carefully on my response and then crawled into bed with her. I made a gesture for her to come and cuddle with me, and she obliged. She fit perfect by my side, she wasn’t skinny and bony like the others.
“I was just thinking about you, and how… pretty… you are when you sleep,” I finally said to her.
She looked up at me and smiled. She lifted her head and pecked me on the lips, thanking me, and slowly falling back asleep by my side. I slowly began to drift into sleep as well, and soon everything was dark and peaceful.
I rolled out of bed, in my dorm room, and rubbed my eyes to get rid of the sleep that was in them. The sunlight was shining brightly through the windows, as the cold autumn chill came through the draft. I looked outside carefully, to make sure the sun didn’t blind me, to see the leaves changing into bright and magnificent shades of yellow, red, and orange. Summer had died here in the Pacific Northwest and Fall took its place rapidly.
I stood up, and raised my arms above my head to feel the muscles in my stomach and back stretch. Looking down, I noticed my roommate wasn’t up yet and so I took it as my opportunity to go and take a shower before he used up all the temped-warm water in this place.
The shower was soothing. It woke me up, and helped me become alert without the water being freezing like it is most mornings.
Shortly after I was finished with my shower, I was dressed and ready to go. I grabbed my laptop bag and made my way down the seven flights of stairs in the dorm building. I bumped into Pam on my way down – she was trying to become a lawyer, and boy did we have some fun nights whenever she got tipsy – who greeted me and then went about her business. I continued down the stairs until I made it to the art floor.
I had a love hate relationship with the art floor. On one hand, the girls down here were good to look at and weren’t afraid to show their skin, but on the other hand all the guys and girls were a little too freaky for my taste.
College was a zoo raging with hormones and experimentation. There were three types of people who lived there; the ones who basked in the light that was the zoo, the ones who hid in the dark and pretended it didn’t exist, and people like myself who knew about it, partook in it at times, but never dived in too deep into it.
Yeah, I had sex and possible did a little California green on the side, but I didn’t do it every single day of my life. I knew when to say I had enough, and when to walk away. That was the key to surviving college, being able to say when to stop.
It was dark, a breeze came softly through the open window. It felt as if it was summertime, for the air was warm and slightly humid. A thin layer of sweat came over my body, but the breeze made me shiver. I got up.
After closing the window, I turned to go back to the bed when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. A woman had been sleeping next to me, with natural blonde hair, and a slight tan to her skin. I carefully walked closer and noticed something – with her legs under the sheets it looked as though she only had one leg. I figured that she simply had her legs positioned strangely, but I was curious, so I lifted the sheets.
I was wrong; there was only a stump of a leg from about her mid-thigh.
Suddenly the woman rolled over from her stomach to her back and made a small mewling sound. I looked at her face and noticed that she was particularly hot, but was still pretty. She had freckles all across her nose and cheeks, and a pixie like nose. Her lips were full, but not too full, and her ears poked out just a little bit.
I sat down back on the mattress and just watched her. She seemed so peaceful, so content, but I couldn’t figure out why I was sleeping in the same bed as her.
I wasn’t the type to sleep with pretty girls; I slept with hot, sexy women. I didn’t really like blondes all that much, they were usually ditzy – I preferred a gorgeous red-head or even a brunette. Freckles were not my thing; I liked perfect skin on women. But most of all, I did not sleep with a woman who didn’t have all four limbs.
Then why was she sleeping next to me in – what I presume to be – my bed?
She made a small mewling sound again, and her eyes fluttered open. In the darkness, her eyes appeared to be a shade of brown. I even disliked girls with brown eyes. If I was ever to procreate, I would hate for my children to have brown eyes, because it’s just so common.
This girl was everything I didn’t look for in a woman, except here she was in my bed. The only question I held for myself now was, what did she have that other women didn’t? Obviously there had to be some sort of answer to this.
“Honey, what are you doing awake?” she asked with a smile on her face.
She looked at me with admiration and love. I couldn’t figure it out, why was she here in my dream?
“I’ve, uh, just been thinking,” I replied to the woman.
Her facial expression immediately became worried from my tone. She looked down at the bedding and began to fiddle with sheet. “Thinking about what?” she asked. She wouldn’t look up at me, or even glance in my direction. She just fiddled with the sheet waiting for my response.
I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt bad. She looked like she was at her breaking point, and that if I were to say the wrong thing, then that would be the tip of the iceberg for her. I thought carefully on my response and then crawled into bed with her. I made a gesture for her to come and cuddle with me, and she obliged. She fit perfect by my side, she wasn’t skinny and bony like the others.
“I was just thinking about you, and how… pretty… you are when you sleep,” I finally said to her.
She looked up at me and smiled. She lifted her head and pecked me on the lips, thanking me, and slowly falling back asleep by my side. I slowly began to drift into sleep as well, and soon everything was dark and peaceful.
I rolled out of bed, in my dorm room, and rubbed my eyes to get rid of the sleep that was in them. The sunlight was shining brightly through the windows, as the cold autumn chill came through the draft. I looked outside carefully, to make sure the sun didn’t blind me, to see the leaves changing into bright and magnificent shades of yellow, red, and orange. Summer had died here in the Pacific Northwest and Fall took its place rapidly.
I stood up, and raised my arms above my head to feel the muscles in my stomach and back stretch. Looking down, I noticed my roommate wasn’t up yet and so I took it as my opportunity to go and take a shower before he used up all the temped-warm water in this place.
The shower was soothing. It woke me up, and helped me become alert without the water being freezing like it is most mornings.
Shortly after I was finished with my shower, I was dressed and ready to go. I grabbed my laptop bag and made my way down the seven flights of stairs in the dorm building. I bumped into Pam on my way down – she was trying to become a lawyer, and boy did we have some fun nights whenever she got tipsy – who greeted me and then went about her business. I continued down the stairs until I made it to the art floor.
I had a love hate relationship with the art floor. On one hand, the girls down here were good to look at and weren’t afraid to show their skin, but on the other hand all the guys and girls were a little too freaky for my taste.
College was a zoo raging with hormones and experimentation. There were three types of people who lived there; the ones who basked in the light that was the zoo, the ones who hid in the dark and pretended it didn’t exist, and people like myself who knew about it, partook in it at times, but never dived in too deep into it.
Yeah, I had sex and possible did a little California green on the side, but I didn’t do it every single day of my life. I knew when to say I had enough, and when to walk away. That was the key to surviving college, being able to say when to stop.