Godless Monkey will be away on a photo expedition of Mexico, Central America and Columbia from March 19th to April 20th. I’m running some of my old stories in my absence for your enjoyment.
All through the day Edward kept getting distracted by the dream he had the night before. He found this both annoying and exciting at the same time. Annoying because he kept losing his place and having to start over, and exciting because he very rarely remembered his dreams, and this particular dream was…well, it was invigorating. Edward wasn’t used to being invigorated by anything.
He supposed it must have something to do with the novel he was reading, but it didn’t matter so much why as the simple fact that it aroused positive feelings in him. It was as though he had something to live for. At the same time he felt a bit foolish about the whole thing. It was just a dream. He spent his lunch break daydreaming about what it would be like to simply be able to live whatever life one pleased. He decided finally that he was being a bit foolish and chided himself for such nonsense. Still, it was there in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the workday.
That evening on the way home he stopped at the store and bought another gourmet ready-made meal. He was quite enjoying this wave of recklessness that had overtaken him. He dived back into his novel before dinnertime and then watched the news as he ate. After cleaning up from dinner he went back into the living room and watched some more television, then got ready for bed and read some more until he felt tired.
A couple of hours later he opened his eyes and immediately felt disoriented. Things were not right. That was the first thought that came to him. He quickly realized that the bedside lamp was on. It dawned on him slowly that he must have fallen asleep while reading. He felt around for his book and then spotted it out of the corner of his eye. It had fallen to the floor.
He reached down to pick it up and that was when he realized there was something else amiss. It quickly came to him. There was a faint, soft music coming from somewhere in the apartment. He thought he must have left the television on, though he had certainly never done that before. He listened for a moment, still a bit disoriented from opening his eyes to odd conditions in the room. The music was ethereal. It was immediately captivating and soothing. He arose from the bed as though he were floating and drifted into the living room. He turned on his floor lamp, groping the darkness for the switch.
As his eyes adjusted he glanced around the room searching for the source of the music. The television was off, so it wasn’t coming from there. He took a couple of steps forward and looked again, and then stood there dumbstruck as a new situation presented itself. There, where only a blank wall should be was a door. An ornate wooden door with an elegant handle. He rubbed his eyes, thinking the light must be playing tricks on him, but there was definitely a door in the wall that shouldn’t be there. At least there never had been one there before. The music, he realized, was coming from behind the door.
He inched forward cautiously, not the least bit certain what he intended to do when he reached it. He stood before it for several moments and wondered what was happening. Finally, with a great deal of trepidation, he reached out and touched the wood.
Part 4 tomorrow