Only a writer would have this dream

Only a writer would have this dream.


What a freaky tornado! They are so scary!
photo credit: Google images

Last night I had a dream that involved a tornado. Having a tornado in my dreams is no new thing. I have probably about two dreams every month where I am either running from a tornado or chasing a tornado or in a cellar hiding from a tornado. Hopefully this isn’t a premonition of my future. Last night’s dream was different. Here’s how it went:

I am in some brick house that I have no memory of seeing before, but I know it belongs to me. The house is in the middle of a huge golden field with trees behind it. My boyfriend and a few family members are with me in the house when the sky turns ominous looking. You can hear the wind pick up and start to make the windows shake and the house creek. I run outside and look at the black and gray sky; the clouds right over our house start spinning and I announce to everyone, “There’s gonna be a twister!” By the time everyone believes me the funnel cloud has touched the ground and is seconds away from blowing down the house. Magically we all make it into the basement. Before I know it the house lifts off of us and we are pretty much outside. After the storm we get up to find where the house “blew” to. It landed partially on some guy’s house about a quarter mile away. The man is waving is arms, furious that we let our house land on his. Suddenly I grab my boyfriend’s arm and say, “My laptop! All of my book is on there! No no no!” I start to frantically search for my laptop knowing that my entire manuscript of 95,000 words might be lost. I am throwing aside splintered wood and bricks and broken chairs and tables…then I spot it! It’s my trusty black laptop case I got one Christmas from my Dad. (side note, my laptop is enormous; I actually hate how big it is because it is SO HEAVY. When you pick it up you feel like you are lugging around a few bricks. Note to self, next laptop will be a lot smaller!) Relieved, I dash over to the case only to find that it is empty. No giant laptop. No flash drive. No manuscript. Like in the movies I crumble to my knees, fling my head back towards the sky, raise my hands in the air and cry out in anguish, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

At the moment when all hope is lost I see my laptop a few feet away with practically a halo of light glowing around it. Triumphant music plays. I rush over to it, clasp it in my arms and jump for joy. I do not care that my entire house and all possessions are smashed and broken or just gone. My manuscript, my precious novel is still alive and that is all that matters.

Yup. Definitely a dream only a writer would have.

Has anyone else had a devastating dream that your manuscript was destroyed or lost?

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