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Subject: {ASSM} "Perchance to Dream: A Love Story" (inc/b/f/cons)
Date: Wed, 1 Mar 2000 23:10:02 -0500
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Dear Readers,
Since I've been writing too many boy rape stories, I thought I'd entertain
you lovers of romance. This is not for the lust enveloped. The following is
a science-fiction love story ... so keep that in mind. It could happen!
... Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of
outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by
opposing end them? - To die, - to sleep, - No more; and by a sleep we say we
end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That the flesh is heir
to, - 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, - to sleep; - To
sleep! perchance to dream ...
William Shakespeare
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
[Act III, Scene I.]
Part 1: The Dreams
Chapter 1
I failed to save her in her hour of need. She had looked upon me with
eyes of adoration and I returned her gaze with sorrow as I saw the last of
Jennifer Lloyd's life bleed from her. I was only sixteen when her father
murdered her, sixteen when I was accepted at John Hopkins. I had been born
accursed from the womb-or so I thought-by great intellect that by age four I
was acquiring my highschool diploma. It was as if God had instilled the
chips of a computer into my brain and flawlessly entered such reason and
brilliance that I was too good for others it seemed.
But all of that genius failed me when my second cousin Jennifer and I
had fallen in love and we had embarked upon a powerful adventure in romance
that she became pregnant as a result. She was fifteen when she died ...
would have been sixteen and a beautiful mother today. But once her father
was told that my love, my Jennifer was with child-Grant Lloyd became
enraged-shot her in the belly and once more in the head. Even his
imprisonment is no relief to my heart.
I nearly went insane without her. I miss the feel of the softness of
her skin, the rose petal feel of her rose colored cheeks and the silky swish
of her golden hair-and the volumes of text that her eyes spoke so
profoundly. She was everything to me. She was the brilliance of the world,
the mother of the moon that shone so brightly in the night sky that all
creation looked upon her in awe, but it was the very breath that always
brushed upon me as we kissed, lips a tangle of vines intertwined and
writhing. The very ground she stood upon was like the dust of gold upon
slabs of precious pearl, but in the end, Jennifer lay in her grave only to
wither into dust.
As a young sixteen year-old doctor fresh out of med school, I could do
nothing to save her from the grave. She died in my arms that May afternoon
and I begged her father-in all of his rage-to shoot and kill me as well, but
he knew what he was doing when he spared me.
But recently, as I stated earlier at the age of seventeen, Doctor Emil
Bashoff-a distinguished gentleman and a doctor as well as myself had been
working on the theory of memory gene manipulation when we stumbled onto a
major discovery. Introduction of certain proteins enveloped with corticoid
steroids inserted into nanno technology allowed a human being (in theory) to
tailor and detail dreams. The discovery was a breakthrough and it offered
those with severe terminal illnesses to spend their last days in a dream
state where everything appeared as real as the waking world, a place they
could live where there was no pain or fear, but a peaceful transition from
life into death. The technology was so complicated and yet so easy that it
couldn't be figured out by explanation, but proved only by computer models.
It was the memory of Jennifer that persuaded me to join Dr. Bashoff in his
endeavor. By learning and creating ways to live in a blissful state, I was
secretly planning to enter that dream state where I could live out the
remainder of my life with Jennifer.
Although Jennifer was dead a year, I was constantly reunited with her
in my sleep, only to be pulled away from her before I could bond with her. I
always saw her smile and the beauty of her face, but when I woke I always
cried in bitter despair. I was willing to give my very life to spend at
least a full night dreaming of her where I could touch and taste her.
"Dr. Harris," Bashoff said to me, "I think we can conduct the testing
upon a cat this Saturday night.
"We will program the nannites with images of a barking dog, and will
monitor the animal's electroencephalogram(EEG) to record the effect upon its
brain. Just imagine the implications of what we are about to do! To program
your dreams. Husbands would be more faithful, young teens less promiscuous,
relationships strengthened and patients suffering with their infirmities
distracted from their misery"
"Yes," I said absentmindedly.
"Brendon are you alright, my dear boy?"
"Yes. I'm quite alright. Just thinking."
"Good. Come. Lets have lunch and prepare the schedule."
Chapter 2
It was far better to work at night in the lab than the day. Numerous
experiments were being conducted in our lab, but nothing more important than
ours. Bashoff had acquired the cat from an animal shelter under false
pretenses. He had its scalp shaved bald to apply the electrodes. We sedated
it and drew fifty cc's of the steroid solution and injected it into the
intravenous line. Before hand I had started the electroencephalogram and
acquired a pre-test tracing of the cat's brain function. Everything appeared
normal at first, until the cat's hind legs began to twitch, then it jerked
violently and the stylus on the EEG swung rapidly upon the pink wax paper as
it burned the results onto it.
"Dr. Harris!" Bashoff cried excitedly. "It works! Its a success! See
how the cat moves as if its being chased by the dog. Look at the arch of its
back. Its reacting! We did it!"
"The EEG is really moving! The tracing looks very similar to a Grand
Mal Seizure. Look at the high voltage spikes!"
I was excited as Dr. Bashoff. We had crossed the threshold of a
miracle. We had managed to program the dream the cat was experiencing. We
remained in the lab all night and monitored the animal. Dr. Bashoff entered
a new program of the cat being groomed by its mother and the arching back
and its twitching legs was replaced by a soothing, rhythmic purring. The EEG
returned to a calm scribble.
After fourteen hours of constant testing, Dr. Bashoff was ready to
revive the cat from it drug- induced slumber. That's when we learned that
the cat had entered into a comatose state. Regardless of the drugs
introduced into its state, the cat never woke and the final program of it
being cared for by its mother remained in its brain. The cat purred for
weeks as we kept it a live for study and I began to realize that the animal
was in peace-a pleasure-like state as it lived in the world that Bashoff and
myself had created for it-living in perfect harmony. Bashoff tried to change
the program once more to the barking dog, but it seemed that the cat was
living eternally in the care of its dream mother.
The cat, experiment J-278, never revived nor did it respond to any
external stimuli. It purred non-stop, day and night.
A month after that experiment, I had awakened from another dream-a
dream where I relived the death of my love. I cried in such sorrow as I
remembered every horrifying detail. I was close to slashing my wrists when I
began to think of the experiment. I reasoned that if the cat could live in
perpetual bliss I could as well. I climbed out of bed and walked to the wall
where Jennifer's picture hung. I had one by my bed, but the eleven by
fourteen portrait was the best by far and I drew strength by my memory of
her. I sobbed then fell to my knees and cried openly as I begged for her to
be in my arms, holding her angelic form, but all that came were tears so
great and cold that I knew what I had to do.
After a hot shower I thought of how I would proceed. As long as Bashoff
didn't schedule any more experiments, I could pull it off. I needed the aid
of the computer in the lab. I had to program the nannites, instill photos of
Jennifer and create numerous sequences, sensory perceptions, scenery and
lines of code that would ensure that if Bashoff attempted to bring me out of
the program, the program would imprint itself upon every neuron and cell in
my brain. I would be a vegetable for life-but fully alert and living life
with Jennifer once more-uncaring of the real world.
Chapter 3
On March 4th, 2000-Dr. Bashoff had left the lab for the weekend and I
acted as if I were going to retire for the night and leave as well, but as
soon as Dr. Bashoff's Lexus pulled away, I quickly returned to my station in
the lab and began the computer work. I set to programing the imaging, adding
a serene land-a garden of such beauty and color with a lake so crystal,
fruit laden trees with colorful leaves that danced through the sweet kiss of
the breeze and grass so green and soft that it would be like stepping on
several inches of fine silk. In the distance were snow capped mountain
peaks. In all, the world I was creating was Eden all over again. I wondered
how God had felt as he applied the strokes of his finger to the canvass of
life, creating everything to near perfection.
All the information was stored on numerous CD-ROM disks and every disk
was numbered. They held my life as it would be in my dream state and when I
began, I would see all things as if they were actually happening. I added
feel, the sense of sexual gratification and the ability to climax intensely
as I lived non-stop with my love. I then entered a long-lived life filled
with contentment and if I died during my altered state, then I would merely
be passed on from this world into the next where I know my lover and my
child await me.
Chapter 4
Dr. Emil Bashoff sat in his study at home, smoking his cherry spiced
tobacco through a Mahogany pipe, sorting through his research papers. He had
done so much to escalate their studies. He was blessed to have recruited
such a child genius as Dr. Brendon Harris and had it not been for his keen
mind, they would be years away from their discovery. But Brendon had been
somewhat distracted he noted and wondered what thoughts ran through the
boy's mind. Such a brilliant mind. He had wished desperately for a son as
bright as Brendon, but breast cancer had claimed his wife years ago leaving
him alone to his work.
As swirls of white-blue smoke billowed into the air, Emil slapped his
forehead in annoyance as he remembered the latest results from the cat. He
picked up his micro-cassette recorder and spoke, "March 4th, 2000: It has
been a month since experiment J-278 was implemented. Long range monitoring
reveals unremarkable EEG patterns. The feline's vital signs remain stable
and nutrition continues IV. I was alerted by my assistant shortly before
four PM this afternoon that the EEG showed a significant change. Erratic
voltage spikes are present, indicative of past memories being introduced to
the final program. It appears that past, negative experiences are being
introduced sporadically causing heart rate and respiration to increase
dramatically. It is my opinion that if this test animal continues under the
final program, it will suffer madness. It is probable that the feline will
most likely be terminated. It appears there are kinks in the research that
need to be fixed prior to human testing. Note! Inform Dr. Harris of the
latest findings."
Emil switched off the recorder and took a puff on the dying bowl of
tobacco. "Brendon's going to be angry I forgot to mention the set-back. Oh
dear, well it isn't the first time."
Chapter 5
I had worked long through Friday night into Saturday evening when I
began to program the nannites with a series of specially tuned electronic
signals. All of the data thus created was uploaded. I began the fail program
which would lock the scheme into my mind, preventing anyone from reaching
me.
By twelve thirty-two AM Sunday morning, I had finished all programs. I
worked non-stop without food and little water and no sleep. There would be
plenty of time for sleep. I had no choice. I couldn't stand to be away from
the only thing in my life I was living for. I would give up my life in the
waking world to live the life I was meant to live.
By five AM, I entered Dr. Bashoff's office and turned on the computer
which sat on the desk. I typed away for five minutes and left the CPU and
monitor running-then returned to the lab-removed my dress shirt and tie and
crudely tied a tourniquet around my left arm. I slapped at the bend of my
arm and the purple vein bulged as expected. I took an IV heparin lock
and pierced the vein. I taped it into place and returned to the work
counter. I filled the syringe
with the Valium and steroid solution filled with thousands of programmed
nannites and took a deep breath. I was frightened, but I had nowhere left to
hide from my pain and loss and the more I hesitated, the more I thought of
her ... the more my resolve to inject myself.
I could see my uncle with the Smith and Wesson revolver, the anger on
his face-eyes of hate-as Jennifer ran for her life. I could still see the
fear upon her face as I tried to reach her before my uncle could, but I had
stumbled over the curb of the street. My uncle Grant was looming over the
girl and pointed the revolver at her as he cornered her and fired twice.
"No! No! NOOOO!" I remembered screaming. But there were not enough denials,
not enough imagination to cancel the horror of that day. I would have given
up all love for her if I would have saved her life, but it was too late to
take it back ... too late to turn the hands of time back. No. There was no
rewind in this life, only fast forward.
I took the syringe and poked the rubber head of the heparin lock with
the needle and injected the solution into my vein. It would happen fast. I
stood up and walked to the exam table in the center of the room and laid
upon it. I wondered how it would be. Would this dose of liquid kill me or
would it fulfill my desire? It remained to be seen. After nearly two
minutes, I could feel the effects of the heavy weight of sleep beginning to
wash over me. My fingers and toes, my arms and legs and my lips began to
numb as I was being pulled into sleep ... then finally darkness.
Part 2: The Garden of Good and Evil
Chapter 1
"Hello, Brendon," A soft voice drifted over my shoulder. "I'm glad you
could come."
I turned to look over my shoulder and there in all of her beauty, in
such perfection was the girl I had been separated from for over a year. She
was the same girl that I had slept with numerous times, the same girl that
lit the fire in my heart for days on end. I cried out and reached for her as
I ran to her as fast as my legs would allow and finally, as the real world
refused me to do-I reached her this time and wrapped my arms around her soft
body-her hips, her chest to mine and my lips paying tribute to the lost
vision of her for all these months. Our mouths were like molten lava as the
brilliant heat churned and mixed, her honey sweet breath blowing into my
mouth like a spirit seeking a host as we refused to let this moment slip.
She had been gone from me for so long and for me to let go at this point
scared me. I was scared that this heavenly vision would disappear from me,
leaving me to yearn for her once more, but I remembered that I had taken
steps to prevent me from being taken away.
I held her tight as I slid my tongue into her mouth and felt the
moistness of her own in mine. She moaned in desperation as our hungry mouths
could not please that savage need for each other. Our arms slid up and down
our backs, gently stroking and massaging ourselves as every minute ceased to
exist. There was no time here. There was no night, nor any concept of day,
week, month or year. No seasons, only eternity until my body in the waking
world gave up and released my soul-allowing me to freely travel into
eternity-where I hope God would be accommodating.
We finally broke contact and Jennifer led me by the hand toward the
shore of the crystal clear lake. Only in my dreams had I seen such a
landscape of such beauty, that the vision of this new world would make
Christopher Columbus jealous. I had found a new world where there were no
cares or wants. I can only imagine what Heaven would be like.
Jennifer pointed over the land as the breeze whispered through her
hair, "This is all for us Brendon, our home and nothing or no one will ever
take it from us."
"I know. I've missed you more than you can imagine my love."
"But I was never far. I was always in your heart and I knew you would
come to me. I never gave up hope. Every time I was allowed out of this
world, I would come to you in the night, but never allowed to touch you. But
things have changed and we are free to live out our lives as one."
We both kissed greedily as if the last of all air remained in our lungs
and shared the remaining gasp. When I pulled away from her I took her under
a magnolia tree and already set in place was a blanket and two long, fluffy
pillows.
She sat across from me as we both undressed, savoring the moment as
each article of clothing slid off from our bodies.
I reached for her, touching her plump, firm breast and sliding my hand
around the curve of her bottom as my penis rubbed against the wiry pubic
hairs that covered the perfection and glory of her sex. I pulled her to me
and eased her back onto the blanket, resting her head upon the
pillows-climbing over her-never breaking eye contact as I took hold of my
flesh and directed it into the center of her vagina, pushing my throbbing
cock deep into her until I felt her gasp and murmur as the tip of my manhood
pressed against the very end of her. Her vaginal lips gripped and swallowed
me whole as it invited me into its domain and I proceeded by thrusting as
every outward pull seemed to make her gentle cunny suck my dick right back
in with a strong suction. I returned my groin back into her now thrusting in
religious, rhythmic movements as I looked deep into her eyes and I could see
the story of my life, a story written with the beginning, the middle and no
end. She moaned and grunted as I pushed and pulled, rocked in and out in
glorious pumps. We both gasped intensely drawing in each other's breath as
the pounding movements of flesh to flesh made the sound of smacking kisses,
moist bodies blending, lips molding, hips grinding and lungs laboring for
breath as they inhaled and exhaled wildly. Her gentle cries of pleasure and
fulfillment were like songs of love as they sang the chorus that described
the majesty of the moment.
With every push inward, Jennifer met me as she pushed into me so my
cock was hammering against her in powerful strokes, striking the softness of
her precious womb-feeling the sheets of such fine softness of sweet tissue
from within-that her vagina seemed to be making love to my sex of its own
accord. I could feel her heart beating like the drums of a jungle tribe,
thumping a chorus of beats that filled my own hammering chest, played with
such passion that her moans and little gasping mewling sang in unison
filling this garden with heavenly cries that seem to pierce the very fabric
of this dream world.
I pushed and drilled until sticky trickles of pre-cum began to leak
from me like a mothering breast, issuing forth and providing my love with
the milk of my loins. I moaned, then screamed in ecstacy as I felt the river
of my seed begin to flow from me in a coursing, persistent stream. Jennifer
could feel the heat of my orgasm as my cock swelled to new dimensions that
felt as if my flesh bulged and pulsed against the delicate tissues of her
vagina. She was in the throes of her own climax that her earlier chorus of
her sweet beating heart and moans were replaced by laboring, howling gasps
of air in tune with an accelerating beat. She flexed and writhed on the
ground beneath me and trembled as the surge of my groin drilled deep and
withdrew in a final short series of stabs which blossomed into a crescendo
... then faded into memory as I was washed away into eternity.
We rested under the boughs of the tree as the wind brushed its lips
upon the prancing leaves that bore its fruit. The sky was a perfect blue,
the water cool and still as a pond and in the distance a few birds streaked
across the sky in such elegance and grace that they appeared as angels.
I stroked her soft skin and planted affectionate kisses upon her lips,
feeling every desire that they conveyed in hunger. I was not sorry for
bestowing upon myself the fruits of Dr. Bashoff's labor. I was thankful that
he had invited me into his research and gave me the tools to be where I was.
Chapter 2
"No! Brendon! My god what have you done to yourself?" Emil Bashoff
cried. He lifted the receiver to the phone and dialed 911 and spoke in
hurried tones as he described the situation. He hung the phone up once he
gave the address and floor level of the lab and applied electrodes to
Brendon's chest. The Ekg monitor pinged away as he saw the spikes rise and
fall. Brendon appeared to be stable.
Dr. Bashoff attempted to reverse the effects of the nannites, but to
his shock he saw that the harder he tried crashing the program, the strong
the effects became. It did not make sense to Emil. Everything he tried only
complicated and further baffled the scientist. It seemed to him as if there
was a fail-safe program wired into Brendon's head.
"There is nothing we can do for him," Dr. Bashoff told Dr. Petersen,
"whatever he did, whatever program this stupid boy inserted to the nannites
will turn on him like a wild animal."
"Why was he left alone with this ... this impossible experiment,"
Petersen replied, "he was a kid who just found his father's loaded handgun
and you helped him pull the trigger!"
"I did no such thing!" Bashoff raised his voice. "He is a boy I thought
I could take under my wing and teach and instead he ... he pulls this shit!"
"Didn't he know the risks of the experiment ... this new development?"
"No. I forgot to pass it onto him before he subjected himself to the
tests."
"What will happen to him?"
"He'll enjoy himself now, but as time goes on, the programs he
installed will slowly deteriorate, letting in past dreams, good or bad into
his mind and it can kill him. Remember the old wive's tale? You die in your
dream ... you die in real life?"
Together, they both stood watching as Doctor Brendon Harris dreamed ...
dreamed.
Chapter 3
I entered her again with the enthusiasm of a young boy burying his
untouched cock into a virgin girl. I applied my groin into her with such a
religious thrusting that I could have timed the number of pelvic pumps per
minute. It was all designed wonderfully and I felt as if one life time
wasn't sufficient to ease the heat that lay within, burning bright and hot,
melting the core of my soul and replacing it with the glowing embers of
steel. It was as if every breath, every beat of the heart and every drop of
our cool beads of sweat were planned by god-in perfection and in love- as
the hands of glory touched our young lives and blessed us with far too much
desire and need.
From her voluptuous mouth issued forth such staccato notes of blessed
cries as I pounded and drove my penis deeper than before, more persistent
than the first time, eager and ravenous for more of my sweet love as I
threaded myself into her with desperation. I groaned in delight and murmured
in gasping breaths as I felt those soft, gentle folds of her cunny wrapping
themselves upon the shaft of my sliding cock. The intensity of that mouth
between her legs that swallowed my cock whole chewed and licked me
internally that it took no time to feel the streams of sperm coming out of
me in drops at first, then strings of pearl. I shot one glob of my seed
after another and the ferocity of this orgasm seemed to last as if portrayed
as a film held out in slow motion. I was grateful that dreams could and did
come true for me. A few more trickles of sperm shot out from me when I
collapsed upon her, into her, held by her loving arms.
That was when I heard the peel of thunder. It detonated in a blast
nearby and I looked up and saw the blue of the sky was now replaced by the
darkest grey that I have seen. The wind that was just above a breeze was now
a cyclonic fury. The limbs of the tree rocked and creaked with every gust.
The water on the lake that was quiet and unmoving looked more like a surging
sea, swells churning, tides on the shore ebbing and flowing with a hateful
surge that the water sprayed into the furious wind as if spitting into my
face in defiance of me. My heart raced as the worst fear filled me. Beneath
me, I noticed Jennifer was gone. I was alone ... standing naked in this
garden of good and evil as I cried her name out. Nothing but this storm from
hell answered me in return. Fingers of bright hot, white electricity
slithered out between the clouds and struck near. Loud, heavy explosions of
thunder rocked the garden. The light of the day was now swallowed by this
storm that I could barely see. Soon the garden slowly faded and was replaced
by a familiar scene, a scene that I cursed many times when the agents of
hell came to me in the night and reminded me of the past, like a bitter
friend. The house ... Jennifer's home of fifteen years was now before me in
spite of the raging storm, every detail mimicked in clear, defined lines of
memory as I heard screaming ... then watched as Jennifer emerged from around
the corner of the house, running in long, desperate strides trying to out
run her father who was just behind, running in a mad dash with intent to
kill. "Daddy Please!" I heard her say.
"Dear God No!" I cried. I ran as fast as I could and felt the fat heavy
drops of rain now falling against my face as I ran from one side of the
street to the next. The road was deserted and the only activity I saw were
the two phantoms of history, repeating itself.
I ran as hard as I could. I could feel my feet beginning to lose ground
as my bare feet slid from under me. I hit the macadam with a painful thud
that I could feel my teeth chattered in my mouth. Then two loud blasts that
were nowhere as heavy as thunder, sliced through the cursing mouth of the
storm. I looked up and saw my uncle Grant standing over Jennifer and knew,
sensed that Jennifer had once more submitted to death. I cried ... cried as
if my heart had been torn all over again, feeling the loss and the pain of
failing to help my lover.
"JENNIFER! OH GOD!" I cried so bitterly that my heart was on the verge
of quitting. I fell to my knees and buried my knees in what should have been
perfectly green grass, now replaced by worm infested mud.
Then I saw it all over again. It was all replaying over again. My dream
was repeating itself. No matter how hard I tried, I could never reach her
and over and over I watched my lover executed in cold blood. Play. Rewind.
Play. Rewind. Over and over the scene was looped in a continual motion.
There was no pause button that I could mentally reach out to and freeze this
maddening vision. As the scene played out I looked down to the muddy earth
and thought of where I went wrong-what wrong step I took-then realized that
I couldn't stop this hell. I was trapped. I remembered that I had planted a
command to imprint the program to my brain so that nothing or nobody could
bring me out.
Chapter 4
Dr. Bashoff watched from the intensive care unit at John Hopkins as
Brendon struggled for weeks and weeks as the seventeen year-old child
prodigy slowly self-destructed into an emaciated piece of humanity-wasting
into nothingness-watching the boy as his arms violently twitched, his eyes
rolling under their lids. Bashoff knew that Brendon was going insane. He
couldn't bare to watch him suffer in this hell. He sat by his bed and held
the boy's sweaty, gripping hand and stroked it and cried as he knew what he
had to do. Whatever demons had plagued Brendon in his past were now living
in his dream world. The boy would know no peace and would crack mentally
until his mind dissolved into jelly.
Bashoff stood and reached up to the Hewlett-Packard Ekg monitor and
stilled the alarm. He placed a loving kiss to Brendon's sweating forehead
and cried as he turned off the respirator and watched as the complexes on
the Ekg slowed and widened until the beats per minute fell from over one
hundred down to forty ... then to flatline.
Chapter 5
The wind howled and never ceased. The rain fell in biblical proportions
as the scene of murder and failure replayed before me. I closed my eyes the
first few thousand times, even saw myself making love to Jennifer only to
see her beautiful face dissolve into a putrid corpse writhing with maggots.
I sensed the onset of my own insanity as it crept over me like a
blanket of churning insects. How could I endure this much longer? How could
I stop this satanic vision? The answer was quiet clear. I couldn't. It was
here to stay and I was to blame for my own disposition in this world.
Several thousand more repeats of Jennifer's demise acted out before me
when I felt I was being pulled away by unseen hands. I had wondered how many
hours or days had passed since this nightmare became real. Nevertheless, the
tugging hands seemed to grip me and terror like no terror I had ever
experienced flooded me. I was being pulled to somewhere ... a place. I shut
my eyes and curled into a ball as I screamed in agonized breaths as the
coldness of my world was replaced by warmth and peace. The sound of the
raging storm, the hiss of leaves and tree limbs subsided and I found myself
being propelled rapidly through what appeared to be a tunnel ... driven
through the blackest of blackest until I saw my life, every part of it,
scenes of my past, every word, every action; then I saw stars, worlds,
comets, black holes and numerous galaxies passing until they all swept by as
if I had been swept up into a warp of time and space, exceeding the
boundaries and laws of physics. I was back into that dark black tunnel once
more traveling faster than speed itself that at the end of this darkness was
a tiny pin-prick of light that rushed to greet me. Still there was no fear
as I approached the light and then I sensed that I was no longer alone.
There were two beings of such height and of such beauty that I knew that
they were angels. I knew I was dead. Had I lived for years in that recycled
dream of torment or had I been so inane with fear that my heart ruptured
causing me to die?. It didn't matter. I was dead and free from the dream. I
became aware of all knowledge of every secret in history, every mystery that
had ever existed without rhyme or reason ... became clear. The sense of
love, of peace grew stronger as I reached the end of the tunnel. Before me
such a brilliance of light and color assaulted my eyes. This was far greater
than any world I could have conjured up in my mind.
Then a solitary figure approached me, bathed in bright light that I
could not make out the features on this being's visage. I could see the hair
... a pure white as wool as it approached. I bowed my head in humility and
respect. Then in words of such clarity, I heard the musical tones of a voice
that I remembered. I lifted my face and saw that the white hair belonged to
Jennifer. She was radiant and far more beautiful than she had been in the
world and eyes a color I had never seen before and they held more love in
them than all the world could hold or comprehend.
"Jennifer?" I said.
"I was waiting for you Brendon. I knew you would come." She said. "Once
you started dreaming and even after I died on earth, I knew you would come
to me through your dreams. I was scared to die, but I'm glad I did."
"Is all this real? Is this another dream?" I asked.
"Your earthly body died Brendon. You were brought here to the Heavenly
Father's kingdom where you will never know fear or the end of time, where
you will find no dreams for sleep does not exist. I have been promised and
saved for you. Come."
Jennifer touched me with an amplified softness never felt before and
she led me through one impossibility after another and saw people that I
knew and had died before me.
Jennifer had led me from one place to another until we reached a meadow
of such color and beauty that it all paled in comparison to what I created
before my death.
It was there where I truly made love to my lover for all the ages. It
is without question that I will live eternally without age and without
end-sharing this incomprehensible adoration-exchanging feelings of such
mystery that it would take me an eternity to grasp the grandeur of my
heavenly world. I have yet to meet my child, but I know he or she will be
beautiful and I can hardly wait for the rest of eternity.
The End
If you liked this story (even if you did not) feel free to contact me!
toddsayre@hotmail.com
P.S. I was stoned (on pain meds) while writing this and I hope if I made a
major error, please forgive me!
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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