Alligators Haunt My Dreams
Gator Bites
Many nights as an active player in my personal dream state did result in a certain outcome.
I woke dog-tired.
Years before the embrace of ZOOM by a population weary of the pandemic, I zoomed over to Orlando to attend a flash fiction workshop at a charming bungalow the locals call the Jack Kerouac house.
The single workshop drawback for me - whether onsite or online - is the time constraint given a workshop prompt assigned by the presenter. The words “you have five minutes” results in immediate self-induced stress. Add audible keyboard pecking and pen/pencil scratching, the one (you know the one) participant who talks the air out of the first three minutes while everyone else is busy summoning their inner Jack in the very house where the man himself wrote Dharma Bums simply will and did cause my brain to burn out like those exploding “ … fabulous yellow roman candles …” Jack mentioned in On the Road.
Not that I lost any sleep over the temporary writer’s block. I’d come for the how-to on journaling dreams, the perfect workshop home take-away to lucid sleep the writing my way.
One problem. Alligators haunt my dreams.
Although I’ve come to accept this frequent nocturnal visitor as a spirit animal of sorts, the anything but dreamy gator/gators tend to physically wear out a sleeping woman lucidly evading the beast in not so much a dream, but more of a nightmare.
Enjoy two untitled gator bites from my mini dream zine.
A river slices the forest in double majesty. The opposite bank of this heaven is where my path leads. No bridge to cross, only huge stepping stones. I plant one foot in front of the other. In the middle, the stones exhale. Submerged alligators, peaceful, shoulder to shoulder, allow me continued passage.
***
I walk with a friend along a wild primitive beach. We notice the ocean drops off deep within a foot or so from the shore. The depths are murky. She steps into the tide for a better look. The water froths and churns within a stone skip. I pull her back. The gator propels free of the opaque water, denied.
A third micro , “Alligators Haunt My Dreams” emerged from the swamp and found itself included as part of my novella-in-flash “Summer 1969” (Ad Hoc Fiction, 2023).
Scroll Bath Flash Fiction Novella-in-Flash judge Michelle Elvy’s “Summer 1969” commentary for a 2022 pre-publication sneak peek of “Alligators Haunt My Dreams” here.
Read more about the workshops and residencies offered by The Jack Kerouac Project here.
Thank you for reading and good night, Jack wherever you are.
Lucid Dreaming
-Identify a problem in your story.
-Think about the problem before dropping off to sleep.
-Journal anything remembered from dreaming for about 4-5 days.
-Review the dream journal.
-Look for a possible solution within the journal for the problem in your story.
Congratulations on the Ad Hoc Fiction publication, Sheree! The novella-in-flash form is so interesting to me. I’ll check it out.
And I’ll try the lucid dreaming technique, too! Btw: What haunts my dreams? Snakes!