What dreams inspire...

He came to me in my dreams, a man as dark as the midnight sky and a disposition to match. He never said a word or even made a sound he was just there. It was as if I woke within my dream to find this featureless man using my body for his enjoyment. I tried to push him off but it was as if I was pushing against a wall of stone, he did not budge from my effort so I simply stopped trying. He merely continues to have his way with me as I lay beneath him prey to his wrath. I was not able to scream, not because he held me but because I had no voice. I had no strength for anything. My arms now lay limp next me to no strength to move, I just lie there and do nothing.


The haze returns.

I don’t know how long I lay beneath him only that it was like a dream within a dream and cloudy and confusing. I wanted to recognize this man, I tried to figure out who he may be or was. Did I know him? Was I really awake and being raped by this man concealed in darkness?

He looked directly into my eyes and he had eyes like mine but they were black. The whites of my eyes were black on him. I could make out long curled clack eyelashes that would have been beautiful on any other man but on this man that was raping me and stealing my essence they just added to his unpleasantness. Had I convinced myself that I had seen a flicker sadness cross his eyes?

He continued sliding in and out of me now slower as if he knew I was more aware now and wanted to take advantage of the lucidity and offer me a little pleasure before the cloudiness and confusion returned.

His skin was very much like mine, ridges, soft and smooth but black like the color of coal. He had eyes, a nose, lips a chin but yet no real features to be told of. He simply was a shadow of a man. I heard myself moan and this made him wrap his arms under me and grasp my shoulders so he could penetrate deeper. I felt his lips brush mine and his searing hot tongue make a trail to my neck and down to my shoulder where his hot breath burnt my neck.

The fog returns…

It’s Saturday morning, I hear my son running around the house with the dog…I can’t move. I feel exhausted, I could sleep the entire day but I won’t because of that strange dream. What the hell was that about? Who was that man? Why would I dream such a thing? I better not tell Ian, he with give me some sick Freudian explanation for it or he may say that he is the shadow man since I was upset with him.

Yeah better keep this to myself.