Monday, July 26, 2010
Monday's Muse Dreams
Welcome to another Monday. This time, I'm not going to post images or songs. I'm going to post a few examples where I've gotten ideas for stories, and that is in dreams. I get so many ideas from dreams, it's insane. My muse seems to think that my sleep time is his work time, for sure. Usually it's just a few scenes, sometimes minor and sometimes the climatic scenes, but what they do is get me thinking. When I'm awake, that day, I watch the scene in my head, discover the character and build from there. It's fun.
(male) I was a political killer, which means I assassinated leaders in the realm of the political. Like most in the business, however, my luck ran out. They caught me off guard, from behind and I never really saw them coming. I felt a sudden, sharp pain in the back of my head, then everything went black.
I awoke, a prisoner, in a very small cell with clear walls. All the cells were that way, lacking in privacy. Most of the prisoners (still alive) were women. It made me feel a bit out of place but at the same time I sort of understood their logic. Suddenly, the door to my cell opened, it looked exactly like the other walls on the inside.
A man stood blocking the entrance, one I had never seen before. It was some nameless henchman with a standard militant rifle but more important was the paper he was holding.
In rough English the henchman stated matter-of-factly, "If it is not number eleven." This was followed by an attempted laugh, and I say attempted because for being the one holding the weapon, there was a slight hint of fear in his voice.
It was the list (a list of the top assassins, currently). "Number eleven?" I replied without even thinking, which was something I all too often did, action without thought. "That's crazy! I shouldn't be in the top twelve." I stopped for a second, realizing my talking was going to get me killed.
However, there was a slight pause, then the henchman wrote something on the list. Before leaving he grunted, "fifteen."
Somehow, without punishment, I had talked my way farther on the list, moving back the date of my death, if only by a little.
"Target in sight," I whisper into the headset. Adjusting the blonde wig, my head aches. It is too tight but we can't have them falling off. I look back at my target. One of the Suits has the gem in his hand. "How should I take it?"
Ephram's voice comes to my ear. "How about a little dance, a song and a jump?"
I've gotta hand it to the boy, he's at least still got a sense of humor. "No way. I'm not singing again."
"Come on," he adds a little whine, "it'll be fun."
Leanne interrupts. "Isaac, just do it. We'll sing through the intercomm system and distract them for you."
"Sounds like a plan." I mutter before giving the ending line. "I'll see you at the bottom."
There is a pause in waiting for them to act. When the crackle happens, the system turning on, out pours the refrain of the Suits song(dubbed by us), and not sung well. All heads turn up to the ceiling and it is my cue.
Now is not the time to reconsider. With a quick intake of breath I get off to a running start, grabbing the gem as I run by the group of Suits. One jumps in my way but I run right through him not concerned at the awed reactions. That move always freaks people out.
I stop for a second at the edge of the cliff.
"Kid. You have no where to go." One Suit says, edging closer. His fear of me is obvious, the mutations scare everyone who doesn't have them. "Give us the stone back and..."
With a laugh I flip over the edge. For a second my feet fly over my head and I feel free. To them it looks like I'm flying. The truth is, I can't fly. What I do is a graceful and very extended fall.
That's all. I have many others but I haven't written down most of them.
Do any of your ideas come from dreams?