Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Word: Oneiric




oneiric

[ oh-nahy-rik ]

adjective

of or relating to dreams.

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               Dave woke and stretched. 
               “Good morning.” Said the still sleepy young woman next to him as she slowly sat up.
               Dave froze.  He turned sharply towards the speaker.  She was gorgeous.  Flowing, clay colored hair, vivid hazel eyes.  Everything he could ever hope for in a woman she had, and then some.  And he had no idea who she was.  He had definitely been alone when he went to bed.
               His mind went wild.  One part of him wanted to try and be charming to impress the lovely lady.  The other was in a blind panic due to the total stranger in his bed.  She might be what he always dreamed of in terms of looks, but that meant little.  She might be a serial killer with a knife tucked away somewhere.
               “Who, uh, who are you?” He ended up asking.
               The woman cocked her head to one side.  “That’s a silly thing to ask.  It’s me, Melony.  You know, your girlfriend?”
               Dave did not have a girlfriend.  He had not had a girlfriend in almost two years.  And he would certainly remember having one like her.
               “No.  No you are not.  I’ve never seen you before.”
               She pouted.  Dave felt his heart lurch at the sight.  “How mean.”  She said.  Dave trembled.  She was being way too cute to be real.  In fact, everything about her was unreal.  She was too beautiful to exist.  “How could you say something like that.  Especially after last night.” Her pout shifted into a small smile that stirred something much lower on his body.
               Last night.  What had happened last night?  He had come home from work, spent the night playing video games, ate dinner and went to bed.  He had not socialized at all, let alone with someone as stunning as her.  He had had a very vivid dream though.  The kind of dream he could not talk about with his mother.  Or anyone, really.  And it had featured a woman remarkably like Melony.
               And then it all clicked.  She was not just similar to the dream woman. She was identical to the dream woman.  Which could only mean one thing.
               “I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?”
               Another head tilt was her response.  “Why would you think that?”
               “You.  You can’t be real.  You aren’t real.  I’m dreaming, and that’s why you’re here.”
               Her hand lashed out and struck his face with a loud smack.  His cheek stung, and he raised his hand to touch it.  He winced.
               “What was that for?” He practically yelled.
               “You said you were dreaming.  I’m pretty sure that would’ve woken you up if you were.”
               She was right.  That should have woken him up.  But that meant he was awake.  He jumped out of bed and went to the window.  The city was alive and active.  Cars moved along the streets and people went about their business.  Dave’s eyes widened.  If this was a dream, none of that would be there.
               “See?  Not a dream.” She said, sliding up behind him and wrapping her arms around him.  “I’m real.  I don’t know why you would think I wasn’t.”
               “I…I…” Dave had no idea what was happening.
               How could a literal dream woman just appear there?  And how could she smell so good right after waking up?  And why was he questioning it?  At a glance she was literally his ideal woman, and from the little interaction they had had, her personality was pretty spot on as well.  And she was claiming to be his girlfriend.
               He took a deep breath and made up his mind.  He would go along with it for now.  He would try and figure out how it happened later, and then decide what to do about it.  If she was dangerous, he could deal with it.  But, until then, he might as well enjoy it.
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I would probably do something similar to this in this situation.  Be freaked out at first, and then get really into it.  Of course, I would probably be a lot less verbose.  It would involve more stuttering and awkward silences than actual conversation.

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