Why I Will Not Read Her Stories On Medium

It’s necessary for me to get a good sleep

I’m lying in my bed. I’m wide awake. I’m staring at the ceiling that is as dark as a no-moon night sky.

What the heck happened!

I turn around and pick up my phone.

1:00 a.m.!

One moment I was sleeping like a baby, now I’m just awake!

I turn to my side and put a pillow on my head. I clench my eyes and curl up in the fetal position. I even begin counting backward from hundred to one.

Nothing happens.

My mind is buzzing, my eyes don’t remain shut, and there is a tingling in my chest — I can’t go back to sleep.

Maybe a glass of water would do, or a little walk in the hall.

So I get up, go to the kitchen, pour water into a glass, raise it to my lips, and began drinking.

Perhaps I should get one of those ambient music apps…

I freeze as I remember it — all of it.

At once.

The dream.

Full of peonies.

Pouring from the sky like thick pink drizzle.

Submerging me in a lush of velvety petals.

And the air bursting with peonies’ scent, sweet and citrusy.

That hits me with a force of a dear nostalgic memory.

Oh God! I gasp.

As I remember that part of my dream in which a figure had appeared for a moment and then vanished.

A glimpse was enough and I knew who it was.

It was the same girl whose stories I had been reading in bed with great relish.

And I may have pushed her out of my conscious thoughts before sleeping, but my subconscious and my dreams are where the empress still reigned.

As I stood in the kitchen leaning on the counter my half-forgotten dream begins to unravel.

Like the petals of a flower blossoming in quick succession.

I gasp. I gape. I goggle …

… as another fragment of the dream emerges,

in which she stands supreme like a Greek Goddess,

among white clouds wearing a beautiful bottle green dress.

Descending like an exotic feather gyrating in a light breeze. And her every movement towards me fills me with an electric thrill and a teenager-like unease.

And because it was my dream and this Nymph was an extension of my thoughts, she senses every ripple of my fear and every rushing beat of my heart.

This only makes her bolder and more daring, a sly smile begins forming on her face, and she starts descending faster toward me, without any check.

And in my dream, I knew she would not stop until she has made her and me — two souls in one body. But I don’t care anymore, for now, I want that more than ever before.

So I open my arms, close my eyes and let her hit me with the full warmth of her magnetic force.

A beep — cantankerous, cacophonous, and coarse — fills my ears.

I jump out of the trance of remembering the dream and find my feet in the dimly lit kitchen.

And the whole vision of my dream that was so immersively real — full of pink peonies, white clouds, and her body in a green dress — everything has started to fade, vanish, disappear.

I pat my pocket and take out the culprit phone.

An unexpected, uninvited, unwanted notification has come and killed the flow of all my thoughts.

Damn, I mutter as I return to the bedroom, hoping to catch some sleep and promise myself to never read her stories on Medium before I go to sleep.

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