What Dreams are Made Of_Part Six: A Promise Unfolds.

By the next evening, both more artwork had been completed and real progress pertinent to his immediate needs began to show up in his inbox. He was both elated and disappointed. His mind kept drifting back to the dream. He sat down to write before bed. 

There were a few false starts before the words began to flow freely. A deeper part of his mind began to emerge. He relaxed as wistful notions that often amazed him, pour out into prose. The hours passed without warning. It was late when both the clock on the screen and his cat told him it was time to retire. He shut down his program and put the PC to sleep, clicking off the lamp as he left.

For a while, he lay awake without a word or a thought and watched the beams from the street lamp play on the wall. He was starting to drowse when his cat crawled under the covers. He stroked her gently under the chin and she settled down for her nap. He’d just turned onto his side, when a notion from nowhere flew into his mind:

“Sometimes opportunity knocks in a form that feels familiar and is easy to dismiss. The real promise it holds may only seem separate from the heart’s desire.”

Soft lips brushed against his ear. He glided off into sleep and dreamt of the Moon.

To be continued.