A Snowy Dream #shortstories #writing

One of the oddest dreams I’ve ever had.

The air was cold outside the train window and my fingers felt frozen to them as I leaned closer to see the world spinning by me. I heard others around me telling each other that the last stop had passed and we were heading into unknown territory.

Tiny snowflakes danced against the glass and I curled my toes inside my warm boots with this taste of excitement filling me and warming me. We were in Alaska finally but where we had left from I’m still unsure. After all, this is just a dream.

The trains lights flickered for a second as the doors opened to this unknown place. Frigid air and all those pretty snowflakes felt less magical in my hair and blasting against my face as I stepped down off the train. I felt slightly abandoned as I stood on the wooden platform. What was this place?

All at once I hear a cheerful voice coming closer and a tap on my shoulder. “This way silly” she said with an odd expression on her face as though I should know where to go; as though I had made this trek a million times. I curled my toes again to warm them and stuffed my hands in my gloves and we boarded the bus to take us to whatever place it was I was surely going to recognize.

I was wrong. As the bus, which felt far less welcoming than the warm train had, drove down snow covered streets, I could see clusters of wolves and of bears wandering the streets. Children laughing excitedly and pointed and my friends shrugged when I asked if this was safe. “Just keep your distance silly”, my strange friends would say as I watched a particularly large wolf wander down a snowy lane filled with softly lit homes as casually as a stray cat might. Needless to say, I did not want to get off the bus.

“Here’s our stop folks”, said the driver and I hesitantly put one shaky foot in front of the other and then firmly on icy gravel. I stayed in the middle of the crowd as we walked. No creature approached our pack of frozen people. Their packs seemed happy to keep their distance as well.

I laughed nervously as I wound my fingers around the fabric in my pockets as I considered how strange we must appear to them as well. My silly red hat especially. I kept my head down and focused on my breaths and the power of being in a seemingly endless sea of wanderers as we approached the house I surely must know in memory. Silly me.

I was the last to walk to the door but it was latched and locked. I peered inside and there were people cheerily putting away their coats as I frantically banged on the glass panes. The wooden frame of the door rattled as my panic heightened when I saw a black form slowly approaching. I swallowed my scream and banged harder as I saw the face of a black wolf and his front paws come into view as he attempted to climb the railing.

I threw my hat at him as though that might help. I saw an acquaintance watching now from the door with a quizzical expression on her face. I yelled “Please go away” repeatedly attempting to shove the beast from me with all of my strength. I could see his orange fire-like eyes glittering in the soft light and the tiny snowflakes until I heard him whisper “Please, do not be afraid. I need you to listen.”

Startled beyond measure I almost slipped backwards and he took that liberty to climb up onto the icy porch and sit beside me. His eyes looked off into the distance as I scrambled frantically to sit up. It was the moment he turned again to look at me that I recognized a softness in his eyes that my own fear had blinded me from. He almost looked kind of wolf could ever look kind.

I nodded at him to show him that I was listening as I wrapped my long coat around me tighter. “Come with me”, said the wolf, “It’s time to go home.” I stood up and dusted the snowflakes from my knees and glanced back at the people merrily toasting to some celebration occasionally glancing at me as if all was well and I was where I belonged.

I turned to my new friend, this beast of a beautiful black wolf, in the sparkling snow falling around us with a sense of newfound curiosity that every new adventure requires. “Okay Wolf, take me Home. Is Home a nice place? I’ve never been there before” and off we went; The night was quiet around us as we travelled down snowy roads. All I could hear was my own heartbeat which sounded like drums. This was to be an unforgettable journey; and so it was.

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About Gretchen Leary

I am 32 years old, I live in the Boston area, and I am writing from the perspective of an individual with Asperger's Syndrome.
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