Week 4 Theme 3

A dream that included a resonant voice or conversation.

I’m standing on a bedpost. A voice emanates from the corner, where one would assume a door, its message dulled by the vacuum of sensation that obscures unimportant details. “Don’t jump!” it shouted. “Don’t jump!” The ground shrinks away below my feet placed perfectly side by side, my vertigo raising me to flagpole heights as a second voice fights the first. “That’s not so far. You’ve jumped off this bedpost before. How else can you get down?” “Don’t jump!” shouted the voice in the corner, its message dulled by sheer altitude. I jump.

I wake up, arms raised above my head balancing myself for the fall. My eyes go to that bedpost, three feet off the ground. Three feet. That’s not so far.

I’m standing again, this time in the basket of a hot air balloon, looking down. My friend’s voice says from behind, “You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?” I point. “My house. It’s down there. My bed.” A hand grabs me. “No, you’re not serious, are you? Don’t jump. You won’t make it.” I stare. “Don’t jump. Do you hear me? Don’t jump.” But no, comfort and rest isn’t up here. It lies in the squeaky mattress springs under that roof ready to catch me floating down. How else can I get down? “Don’t!” the voice shouts. I jump, arms raised above my head, trailing my falling body.

And I wake up as my knuckles strike the backboard, the rest of me safely tucked in. I whisper to myself. “Don’t jump.”