Mine are often too complicated to really discribe. They often feel like a point and click game, where I'm just walking around and some event leads me to do something, then another, and another, with anixety building. I do often use dreams I've had in my novel though. I wrote one down once and it went like this. (Obviously it was dramatized to fit the characters story, but it's fairly faithful).
Quote: "White fluffy clouds and shrieking sea gulls floated against the background of blue. The vivid, lush green ground was far below, as vivid as a child's painting. Distant white dots barred
He found himself walking upon thin path of brown. It lay in a straight, horizontal line to the distant horizon where sky met land. He took a step forward. The path rose higher in the into the sky. He stopped, the path looked little different, horizontal to the flat ground far, far below. He took another step, and another, each step making him go higher, yet the path wasn't moving. He knew it wasn't, but nor was he progressing forward. He sensed, rather than felt, that upon the rising of each boot, the path instantly moved to meet the sole of his shoe, though not through power of it's own, he was dragging it, though he had no idea how. Yet his foot never actually lowed. Instead the path provided a firm platform to place his weight. To make things even worse still, and almost norsiating. The leg that remained upon the path while he lifted either boot remained there, but there was no bend in the path, it was still flat. The best explanation he could come up with was that his leg was getting shorter, yet as he watched there was no evidence of this. Somehow he was forcing the path upwards with each step, and at the same time staying where he was.
He took another step, then another. He rose higher and higher until he was above those fluffy white clouds, eye to eye with this shrieking, angry sea gulls. As he rose higher skill, the gulls circled beheith, and the clouds became gray, almost menacing. Each cloud started stretching outwards, covering the green lushness below. The foreboding entereed his mind for the first though, though it had always been there, below the surface of his thoughts. As he watched the green become swallowed by gray. Something in him wanted to turn back, to return to the safe ground while he could, but something else, a more powerful desire drove him onwards. He needed to be somewhere; he needed to do something, yet he had no idea what or where.
Each step now brought a feeling of sticky static, his clothing gave off little discharges as cloth rubbed skin. They covered him in little brown-yellow, orange, blue and purple fireworks. Each discharge tingled his nerves, it was as if he was charging the air itself.
Foreboding bloomed into fear that nudged at his senses, pleading with him to go back, or to jump off the side and float down to the world below, anything but moving upward. Yet still, something else drew him forward, his desire growing stronger. He was being called, he was needed, or was it that he needed something?
He broke into a run, trying to ignore the impossible sensation of running upwards, while remaining still, while running forward, but never moving.
A bout of sickness threatened to overwhelm him as the weird sensation increased, but he forced onwards, or was it upwards, or was he still where he was? Pushing the mind boggling paradox out of his head, he forced himself to run harder, faster, until his body became a blur, yet still, he knew he had never left the spot he had started from.
As he ran the sky became dark and thin. The stars above twinkled to each other. In the distance was a light, directly in front of him, but it wasn't getting any closer, he only grew more level with it.
Sickness, confusion, and disorientation swelled in all his senses until he could run no more, and no further. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, threatening to explode. He drank in the air. It was thick as water, and as thin as vapor.
He could make out the light more clearly now, it was glass. Just a transparent sheet of glass. As he gazed harder, he saw his own reflection gazing intently back at him. The harder he gazed, the stronger the reflection grew, until it became a mirror.
Something in him screamed for him to go higher, while something else, much fainter now, pleaded with him to go back, yet he knew he could never go back. He was so close he could taste it.
He broke into another run and watched himself ascend quickly. He ignored his heart, his burning lungs, his rock hard legs until he was high enough, then he jumped off the path. His body floated downwards in the dark, starlit sky. A thrill shot through his being as he drew closer to a mirror. It had angled it's self towards his face. He could see his own joyful reflection as he drew closer. He was almost there, ALMOST THERE.
He felt a powerful lurch in his stomach as gravity took hold of his floating flight. Before he could touch it he tumbled over falling faster, and faster. He started spinning wildly. Fear gripped his senses again, then turned into panic. Sweat poured from his forehead, arms and chest. His panic turned into norsia as he fell through the deep grey clouds. His head spun, his body spun, he wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream and to whimper at the same time.
The ionization in the air grew thicker, almost tangible. A flash of lightning flashed before his eyes, blinding him. A thunder clap defend him. All he could feel was spinning and the rushing air. He tumbled over and over, gathering speed until even the moisture of the thick clouds began to hurt. Then, he began to slow. He opened his eyes to discover he had landed upon the path again. He sat quite motionless for a long time, feeling his fear slowly ebb away. Slowly, he considered trying to ascend again.
Pushing himself up with his white knuckles he felt something sharp in the palm of his hand. He opened it to reveal a shard of glass. He had squeezed it so hard it had cut into his skin.
He gazed into the shard, his own reflection gazing back, with glazed eyes. As he took in the detail of his angular edges, the glass started to melt. He was more surprised to discover he'd been expecting it. As he watched it turn into a silver liquid he was surprised to see it enter into his hand through the cut. He watched it travel under his skin, up his arm, and across his chest. It disappeared into his solar-plexus's.
He felt it. It was hard and raw. He felt as if he needed to do something with it. He concentrated, pushed it with his mind into a ball inside his body. He pushed on it, harder and harder, making it tighter and tighter. Little sparks of purple electricity started to spread around his body. Pain rippled through his back as another burst of lighting earthed it's self into the small of his back. He throw his head backwards in pain and surprised. His face flew backwards into the forked lighting, and he embraced it's burning pain as the image of his own reflection was burned into his eyes...
David awoke."
I had prob been watching too much Dragonball Z, and eating cheese on a hot night.
