Story: Oneiromancy, XIV

(Part O , XIII , XV)

They had gone to sleep finally, after much effort, with the words "And that's how Bonzo Bunsen invented the rotating electrical sheep drier." Kibbel had exhausted almost all of his tricks and techniques for inducing trances and resorted to the ultimate final measure of telling stories he used to tell his children at bedtime. At least Stanley and Helen wouldn't dream this time, in a meditative trance as they were. They had only been a few hours away from total meltdowns.

As they slept, he picked up the phone and dialled a number for the first time in seven years.

***

Helen was lost in a hazy tunnel of psychedelic colours. As she turned endlessly, head over heels, and rolled in the gusts of pinks and purples, the tunnel seemed to recede ever further into the distance. Helen continued to turn, and turn, and turn...

***

Stanley was standing in his class, at the whiteboard, with pen poised. The room was empty apart from him. Outside the window there was a clear night's sky, the stars clearly visible. He began to write, words issuing endlessly and being unwritten as soon as he looked to the next. What they were, he had no idea, nor what he taught, but he went on writing.

***

Dr Kibbel noted the growing restlessness of his patients with unease, even as he replaced the phone receiver on its old fashioned stand. Moving quickly, he reached for the smelling salts and cold sponge, and hoped that nothing was going drastically wrong. They really shouldn't have been dreaming at all in their state of sleep. How absurd it was, and dangerous/

***

Stanley wrote and wrote, while Helen turned and turned. She shrank to nothing and popped out of existence, appearing once more on the island beach. The gibberish on Stanley's board began to take on some meaning even as he forgot every word as soon as it was erased. The tweedy woman walked down the hill and examined Helen, with a malicious look in her eyes. Both the dreamers began to become aware of a vile aroma sweeping over them. Just before he woke up, Stanley saw the last words on his board. Helen was being struck across the face.

***

Kibbel jumped back as the two sleepers practically rolled off their couches in reaction to the industrial grade smelling salts. Even before Stanley had finished catching his breath, he gasped out, "Dreamline Omega!", even as Helen muttered, "That witch!"

Kibbel was astounded, and astounded further when the phone rang, and his call was returned.

There shall be more...