NOVEL NEXT 258: Unwritten Dreams
"Twenty minutes late, Sam," Night Nick the nanny scolded.
"I'm so sorry, Nick. I have no excuse. At least, no good one."
"How's everything here, Nick? You in a lurch since I'm late?"
"Fine, fine, no worries, Sam," he waived me off. "You've been early every morning for a year, so I'll just take that off the tab! The kids are in the basement watching cartoons. Neither of them is feeling good. Stomach bug yesterday, so you know what that means."
I grimaced. Their mother Janelynn was probably pissed. I was suddenly very glad I hadn't been working yesterday. Ugh. Three-year-old twins with a stomach bug. What kind of hell must that've been?
"How's Janelynn?" I asked the overnight staffer.
"Neither parent got sick, thank god, but she's exhausted from helping Saundra with the twins yesterday. Yes, she tore herself away from work to help out, and she wasn't happy about it. But don't worry, she got into the gummies last night, and I think she's gonna take today off too."
I winced. My boss taking two days off was not reassuring news to me at all. Once the magic of the drugs wore off, she'd be even more tightly cranked than normal. A deadly scenario.
"I'll be back tonight, so catch you later, Sam."
"Have a good one, Nick."
He nodded and was gone, so I made my way to the basement to check on my charges. Joey and Mal were both asleep on floor cushions in front of a screen that was softly playing cartoons. I left it on and went to sort through the books, picking out some of their favorites.
Wait, what was that? A new book? Hairy Larry's Happily Ever After. What adorable watercolors! I added it to the stack then nestled down into a bean bag to read about Hairy Larry.
It was a beautifully illustrated children's book about a girl named Macrina who adopted a shaggy dog, but it didn't end there. There was a fantasy twist as Mac and her dog discovered a fairy named FlutterB and made two new friends by tripping over a ball. Something about the little watercolor fairies drew me in, and I couldn't put the book down.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
When Macrina cried about school to her doggy best friend Hairy Larry, the tears hit her pillow, and from that splash of color a pretty little creature with wings arose.
What was that? A woman? A sprite? A fairy? She was sitting on Mac's pillow smiling.
"You're beautiful," Mac said.
The violet being's voice tinkled with laughter, "Thank you. So are you!"
"Oh, I'm a mess. All cry-ey."
The little creature settled on the pillow saying, "From every tear, something new is born."
"Did you come out of my tears?!" Mac exclaimed." "What are you? Do you have a name?"
"Sometimes."
"Your name is 'Sometimes?'" Mac wondered.
Sometimes laughed and said, "You can call me that if you wish."
Mac flopped down on the pillow and sighed.
Sometimes tucked the blanket over her and said softly, "It's your birthday, Mac. Make a wish."
Mac closed her eyes, and quietly mumbled, "I just want everyone to be kind," as she drifted back to sleep.
The sweet story touched something in me, and I realized I had a new idea for a poem. I needed to write nine of them for the Purple Road Poetry Contest, didn't I? Maybe they shouldn't all be comedy.
"From every tear, something new is born," the little fairy from the book'd said. What a beautiful sentiment.
"Unwritten Dreams"
It started with a poem.
One from long ago.
Of times since forgotten.
Of them I'll never know.
But recorded in the pages
Of lost, unremembered things
Are stories of the deepest kind
And yet unwritten dreams.
Who can tell those tales
Of memories never seen?
Who dares to walk the hallways
Beyond superficial streams?
For in the quietest reverie
Are secret rooms untold.
And what lies waiting for the unwary
Is danger manifold.
Will you take the mantle
Of those who're unafraid?
Or will you hide in cowardice
Like those who've been betrayed?
I wasn't entirely sure what I'd just written. That's how it worked sometimes. Inspiration hit then words appeared on pages, and it might be weeks or days before I grasped what they truly meant to me, but that's how I usually knew it was good. When I was in a fever of fingers tapping keys, the best things poured out, and I couldn't stop the stream.
"Pantsing." That's what authors called it when they wrote flying by the seat of their pants. It really was the best, and if my friends on Discord could be trusted, then I wasn't the only one who loved it. I didn't want to think about the black hole of Discord, though, and the kids were starting to stir from their nap.
So I closed my pad and picked up Hairy Larry's Happily Ever After.
"You two ready for a story?"
Two tiny faces nodded, and I did what I did best.
I read.