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Writing responses from SSOA writers, members of our weekly meetup groups. www.ssoa.com.au to join

THIS WEEK'S WRITING PROMPT: Advice in the time of corona – enjoy your dreams while you live in the moment



ADVICE IN THE TIME OF CORONA



'Ugh do I have to?' Brendon said as he sat down on the couch. 'You’ll like it, trust me. His work is so inspirational,' Megan said, picking up the remote and hitting play. Brendon sighed as the screen lit up.

A man appeared in the centre dressed in meticulously picked out clothes, the ones that were borderline between casual and business like. As though to say: 'I am professional but also one of you'. His smile appeared a little too forced as his teeth shone out from his tanned skin. He reminded Brendon of a used car salesman.

'Good morning people. I want to start off by wishing you well in this time of uncertainty as Covid has gripped us all in one way or another,' he said, his eyes trying to bore through the screen as he spoke.

'This dude has crazy eyes,' Brendon observed.

'Shh, he’s brilliant.'

'This isn’t a cult is it?'

Megan gave him a withering glare.


Brendon sat there, trying to pay attention as the man droned on about the importance of living in the moment, and that, quarantined as we are, there was still the ability to live your dreams. If there was a will, there was a way.

Brendan knew that Megan would grill him on it in the end, so he focused on the screen. It went on for longer than he thought possible but when Brendon glanced at the clock, he wasn’t sure if the thing was broken, it was moving so slowly.

'In closing, good people, remember that you need to keep chasing your dreams. Covid has simply created another hurdle that you must overcome. Keep on pressing through until you get there and have succeeded, because through your dreams you will find success and happiness. Until next time, this is Simon Goodfellow wishing you well.'

The screen went blank and Brendon breathed a sigh of relief.

'What did you think?' Megan asked, turning to him.

'Inspiring,' he said, standing up. 'Really! I am going to chase my dreams. There is something I’ve always wanted to try.'

Megan’s eyes lit up with so much hope that he almost felt bad. He walked over to the freezer and pulled out two ice creams, one for each hand. As he sat down, Megan reached for one.

'Don’t,' he said firmly.

She tentatively pulled back.

'This is my dream and I expect you to support me.' He took a bite of one ice cream, before promptly biting into the other.

'I hate that you don’t take these things seriously.'

'Come on, tell me you haven’t ever dreamed of having an ice cream in each hand.'

She looked angry at first but it didn’t take long before she joined him with two ice creams of her own.

Stew Adams


COVID DREAMING



I'm sitting at my nearest coffee shop waiting (CoVidly safely appropriately distanced) for takeaway when WHALLOP, a blow to the back of my head. I turn around, dazed.

Oh, its only the wind screen blown onto me because of a sudden strong wind gust and a lack of adequate ballast on the legs of the screen. No lasting damage. Nothing malicious.

There are green chalk marks on the sleeve of my shirt and some blurred writing on the screen. The word 'coffee' now looks like ghostly writing.

I get home to rest up and fall asleep, fully expecting vivid dreams. During the past six months of this pandemic, I have been waking up full of random thoughts about anything and everything.

Having thought myself spare, I pull up the bedclothes and settle back into sleep in the wee hours.

Disrupted sleep patterns, much anxiety, but no dreams recalled. Obviously, I am not getting enough REMS (the periods of sleep during which dreams come) to deliver some bona fide vivid or CoVivid bizarreness.

What are dreams anyway? Do they reveal what is in our subconscious a la Freud and Jung? Or are they messages from our ancestors, as some cultures believe? Or as neuroscientists say, generated by brains that go wild at night. Maybe we don’t need to dream, as our days are now weird and wild enough; and our subconscious fears are on daily display, no longer hidden.

Roslyn Lawson


Copyright to the above authors.

Photo credits: Wix

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