Real life was out and about last night; I finally met up with a friend who I hadn’t spoken with in about a year, and we decided it was finally a good idea for use to spend some time together chatting and acting like real people who have lives. And it was a good chunk of time: about three and a half hours of food, iced tea and Coke, food, and a shared dessert. And during the time we made plans to head out to King of Prussia to go shopping because there are things we need like sweater dresses and cute cold weather boots, because we are women who like to look, well, cute.
This meant that there wasn’t a huge amount of wordage last night, but I wanted to advance the scene, so about three hundred and seventy-five words was scribbled up in some thirty minutes as we saw what happened to Annie in her dreamspace:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Annie walked forward and up to the wall of the bedroom; the moment reaching it she stepped through and out into the space beyond the window. In real life she would fall nine meters to the ground unless she levitated or flew, but here she willed herself to remain standing upright, and did so as if she were standing upon a solid surface. She turned and waved her arm, making the house vanish and leaving her dreamspace uncluttered and unformatted, returned to the swirling gray mists she’d encountered the first time.
Knowing what to expect, Annie soared upward until she reached the apex of the sphere. She paused long enough to sense the surface, then pushed through the foam until she reached the astral realm where dreams resided. She didn’t see their shared space, but the corridor that linked hers to that stretched away, fading into a wall of mutable pastels. Annie didn’t need further encouragement: she was here and action was required.
She launched herself off into the astral dream realm.
Though it felt like she was moving quickly, the sensation of speed was more of an assumed event than a real thing. There wasn’t any actual frame of reference: the sensation wasn’t much different than flying through a heavy cloud bank unable to see the ground. She kept the corridor thread to her right and followed it onward. At the end she’d find Kerry, sleeping peacefully twenty-five hundred kilometers from her dreaming form. She would encounter his dream space and—
Ahead their joined space lay, but she didn’t stop there: she flew around the flattened sphere, found the other corridor, and continued onward. Now it seems as if time accelerated, for it seemed only seconds passed before she encountered the other sphere at the end of the corridor: Kerry’s dreamspace. The failure she experienced the last time came back but she pushed it aside. She was filed with confidence that if she could manage to get through her space with easy, then getting into his would be just as easy.
Annie pushed her right hand into dreamfoam and watch her arm disappear up almost to her elbow. She didn’t need to wonder if she was going to succeed this time: it was guaranteed.
She pulled herself into the foam and vanished into Kerry’s dreamspace.
And there she goes: finally getting out of her dreamspace and into her that of her soul mate’s. When I climbed out of be this morning–as I type this that was about forty-five minutes ago–I had the modified versions of an old Heart song in my head: “Oh, Annie/Dreamscape Annie/Little witch of dreams . . .” This means if she can figure out how to do this with some regularity, Kerry’s gonna have a visitor nearly every night–like it was for so many years before they started school.
Since I should be home most of the evening tonight I’ll finish this scene–which, honestly, won’t be very long because I’m almost to the end–and then I’ll start in on the next scene, which is the last of the chapter. And once that last scene is out of the way, that means the kids are through with Yule and heading back to school.
And then . . . it gets really fun.