Running Away From Change
Our dreams know better than we do
Tall grass tickles my calves as I stand in a forest meadow. I spread my arms and let a gentle breeze cool my skin like a lover’s breath. I’ve been here before. I know what comes next. But it never ruins the peace this moment brings me.
A wolf howls in the distance at the moon’s wicked smile. The meadow darkens as clouds gather overhead and the caressing wind turns into a forceful shove. A faint gray light permeates the meadow, turning trees and grasses into a sick faded shade as if some chromatic vampire had sucked all color from the picturesque scene.
The wolf howls again, closer this time. A chorus of their brothers and sisters join their voices to the alpha, filling the meadow with an ominous din.
“Joseph, you worthless man,” they seem to call. “You can’t escape. Give up already.”
Branches snap in the distance. Soon they will burst into the meadow and rip me to shreds. It has happened countless times before, surely, it will happen again. I’m too slow. Too stupid to get away.
My feet trample the grass as I scramble for the tree line at the edge of the meadow. Maybe this time will be different. I just need to reach the bridge. There’s refuge across the ravine.
