Dream House

I was on a lake. It was twilight and the darkness of the evening was quickly surrounding me on all sides. The old row boat which I was in was slowly drifting as if it was being pulled by some invisible force, pulled to the shore of a small island. I disembarked onto a lush lawn; there was a path leading into the island's heavily wooded interior. A sort distance into the woods the path opened to a clearing, with a large old house in its center. It seemed to be some sort of an institutional dwelling, too large and too regular in its features for a regular home. A dormitory perhaps, or possibly even a convent. The wavy glass in its windows seemed to reflect a distorted face in every pane. A palpable taste of fear rose in my throat, yet still I walked on, on towards that ominous edifice.

As I approached the front steps I looked up and a monstrous figure loomed above the roof line. I knew that I was doomed.

And then I woke up. I was wide awake and went over to the window and looked out, my heart was still racing. The early morning sky out my window was just beginning to lighten. In the distance, I could hear the rumble of a freight train. The birds had not yet begun their dawn chorus. I gradually calmed down, by then the sky was quite bright. I returned to bed, and went back to sleep.

Forty-Seven years later and it seems as if it happened only yesterday.