Sitting here in Dreamland after running another 7 miles, I’m stunned with my own inner silence. Laptop’s humming, sun is beating down intensely, I’m seated with closed eyes, yet nothing. I wait. And wait. And wait…
I feel a presence near me. It’s a huge German Shepherd that a girl is walking leashless through the cemetery. She’s at an unapproachable distance, but the dog has strayed toward me to check me out. I was caught off guard by its approach. It seems that I was dreaming and just woke up. She yells “Come on. Let’s go.” I guess she understands that I understand that she means the dog. But do I?
My dream state was not vacuous. There was a female presence with me. She was typing on my laptop. She stopped when I returned to consciousness. I was hoping that she had written a book and left it for me in my session of Word. Yet the page is still blank.
That’s how books get written, isn’t it? Nobody really writes those things, right? Spirits visit and endow us with the transcripts and then strangely and mysteriously disappear. I kind of feel that the female sprite in my dream was just getting started and that that ruin-a-good-thing dog disrupted our relationship. Damn it. I want my ghost writer back!
*closes eyes…drifts off again*
—this is the first chapter of notforprophet’s ghost-written book—
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