When Dreams Come True
You know that old saying that goes, “Your thoughts become your reality”? Well, it is literally true. Sometimes this is a good thing—for some people.
My husband Dave, who is a teacher, happened to be talking to one of his students after school, about how good a Klondike ice-cream bar would taste just then. And, Presto! In walks another teacher who just happened for some random reason, to have a whole bag full of Klondike ice-cream bars. That’s the sort of thing that happens to Dave. That is not the reality that I typically get. Which is why I hope that all of your dreams DON’T come true.
For example, one night I had to stay at the office after hours to wait for a late appointment. I probably could have used the time to catch up on some work, but as it happened, I was right in the middle of a very exciting book, which, unlike my boss, was right there beside me.
It was a dark, both outside and in my book. In my story, the FBI was tracking down a crazed serial killer who enjoyed dressing up. The nitwit heroine, who knew the killer was after her, insisted on staying all alone in her apartment where it was eerily silent. I listened. Yes, it was eerily silent where I was too. Then the heroine discovers that her phone is dead. I eyed my phone which hadn’t run for hours and swallowed. There was a knock on her door.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! there was a knock on my door. Anyone who as seen or read Stephen King’s IT can imagine my feelings when I looked up and saw a real live clown at my window complete with wig and makeup. I don’t happen to know any clowns. Am I dumb enough to let this stranger in? Of course I am, I’m no better than any other heroine. The clown burst in, gave me a hug and a sticker, dropped into a chair and made herself at home.
“Hi! I’m Marilyn!” The clown said, “I was just passing by and thought I’d introduce myself.”
She took off her wig and looked around the office.
“Say, you might want to check your hair. It’s standing straight up.”
“Thanks, I will. Nice to meet you. So, ummmm, what do you do in your normal life? I asked a little nervously.
“What are you talking about? This is my normal life,” she replied.
“Right. Let me try again. What do you do when you’re not a clown?”
“I make and sharpen knives.”
“Uh uh. You know, I was just reading about someone who does the very same thing…”
Obviously, since I’m here to tell the tale, my clown turned out to be harmless, but the whole thing had a sort of “Twilight Zone” quality that reminded me of another time a book came to life.
Again, I was alone. Dave was at a meeting. It was a classic “dark and stormy night.” The wind was howling and I could hear the bare branches outdoors rasping against the house. It was a perfect night for mystery. I made myself a bowl of popcorn, got an Agatha Christie and settled down. Usually, Christie doesn’t go for horror, but this one was different. It was packed with atmosphere, In the story, a young girl has seen too much, the killer is after her, she is all alone in the dark, the killer raises his knife and…BAM! There was a real clap of thunder and all of my lights went out.
I’m proud to say that I did not panic. When Dave came home I calmly told him what had happened, and it only took him an hour or so to coax me out from under the bed.
This sort of thing makes me wonder what realities the future holds in store for me. Are the tacky items from the catalogs in the bathroom going to come to life and appear in my home? Will the weird old roommate I was wondering about, suddenly be seized with a desire to visit me? Will I finally win the lottery?
Well, two out of three isn’t bad.
Back to Around the House
My husband Dave, who is a teacher, happened to be talking to one of his students after school, about how good a Klondike ice-cream bar would taste just then. And, Presto! In walks another teacher who just happened for some random reason, to have a whole bag full of Klondike ice-cream bars. That’s the sort of thing that happens to Dave. That is not the reality that I typically get. Which is why I hope that all of your dreams DON’T come true.
For example, one night I had to stay at the office after hours to wait for a late appointment. I probably could have used the time to catch up on some work, but as it happened, I was right in the middle of a very exciting book, which, unlike my boss, was right there beside me.
It was a dark, both outside and in my book. In my story, the FBI was tracking down a crazed serial killer who enjoyed dressing up. The nitwit heroine, who knew the killer was after her, insisted on staying all alone in her apartment where it was eerily silent. I listened. Yes, it was eerily silent where I was too. Then the heroine discovers that her phone is dead. I eyed my phone which hadn’t run for hours and swallowed. There was a knock on her door.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! there was a knock on my door. Anyone who as seen or read Stephen King’s IT can imagine my feelings when I looked up and saw a real live clown at my window complete with wig and makeup. I don’t happen to know any clowns. Am I dumb enough to let this stranger in? Of course I am, I’m no better than any other heroine. The clown burst in, gave me a hug and a sticker, dropped into a chair and made herself at home.
“Hi! I’m Marilyn!” The clown said, “I was just passing by and thought I’d introduce myself.”
She took off her wig and looked around the office.
“Say, you might want to check your hair. It’s standing straight up.”
“Thanks, I will. Nice to meet you. So, ummmm, what do you do in your normal life? I asked a little nervously.
“What are you talking about? This is my normal life,” she replied.
“Right. Let me try again. What do you do when you’re not a clown?”
“I make and sharpen knives.”
“Uh uh. You know, I was just reading about someone who does the very same thing…”
Obviously, since I’m here to tell the tale, my clown turned out to be harmless, but the whole thing had a sort of “Twilight Zone” quality that reminded me of another time a book came to life.
Again, I was alone. Dave was at a meeting. It was a classic “dark and stormy night.” The wind was howling and I could hear the bare branches outdoors rasping against the house. It was a perfect night for mystery. I made myself a bowl of popcorn, got an Agatha Christie and settled down. Usually, Christie doesn’t go for horror, but this one was different. It was packed with atmosphere, In the story, a young girl has seen too much, the killer is after her, she is all alone in the dark, the killer raises his knife and…BAM! There was a real clap of thunder and all of my lights went out.
I’m proud to say that I did not panic. When Dave came home I calmly told him what had happened, and it only took him an hour or so to coax me out from under the bed.
This sort of thing makes me wonder what realities the future holds in store for me. Are the tacky items from the catalogs in the bathroom going to come to life and appear in my home? Will the weird old roommate I was wondering about, suddenly be seized with a desire to visit me? Will I finally win the lottery?
Well, two out of three isn’t bad.
Back to Around the House