JUNE 4, 2019

Dream of Fields

“Dream of Fields” is my story for the 86th episode of The Word Count Podcast. The theme for this season is Landscapes, and the story is based on the following image called: “Forest of Wonder.”

Story Inspiration: This was a difficult prompt. Nothing hit me immediately, and I couldn’t scrape an idea together until a few days before the story due date.

I said to Richard that whenever I draw a blank, I tend to write a story on this particular subject. It makes sense though, a simple story about indulgence.

The wordplay with the title was a happy coincidence and came to me early. Normally, I struggle with titles for stories.

You can also listen to me reading “Dream of Fields” on episode 86 of R.B. Wood’s podcast.

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I run through a field of blue pearl crocuses protected inside a forest. The cushion of petals tickles my bare feet as I skip over the dense ground cover and try only to step in the bare patches. Spring has arrived, and the luminous, lavender flowers cry as I crush them beneath my weight.

Hmmm … wait a minute. That doesn’t make any sense, flowers don’t cry.

My ears prick up to try and pinpoint the sound. It’s early morning yet, and the sun is still rising in the sky. The heat burns off the morning rain and creates a subtle mist in the air. My vision is blurry, almost hallucinatory, in this foggy atmosphere. When the crying becomes faint, I instinctively squat as if by standing, I’m somehow blocking the sound waves from hitting my ears.

I’m not entirely wrong though. Whatever the noise, it’s coming from close to the surface of the earth, not from high above it. It’s not a mechanical sound anyway—that much I can tell. No … something alive is crying—a moan that tugs at my heart. Could it be a wounded animal or some kind of large insect? I quiet my internal dialogue to listen more intently, convinced the source of the sound must be close by. I remain squatting for several more breaths before my thighs ache, and I drop to my hands and knees. I lean forward and place my right ear to the ground first, then my left. A steady beat from the forest floor is accompanied by a natural symphony of insects, their stridulation a rhythmic buzz in between flutelike birdsong. Something scratches faintly in the undergrowth, but whatever it is scurries away before I can see it.

When I rise up to stand on my shins, I hear little cracks and pops like popcorn popping. An image of a tree snapping and falling on me is my first thought, but as far as my eyes can see, everything appears still. Nothing moves except the sweet scent of crocuses drifting by my nostrils. By now, the crying has stopped. For some reason, I know it’s futile to try and chase it. Frustrated, I lie on my back and try to calm my thoughts. Damp flowers create an uncomfortable wet patch beneath me, but I don’t want to move. A warm air lulls me into sleepiness, and I close my eyes. In a forest filled with so many different sounds, perhaps I just imagined the crying. I stick with that thought as I breathe deeply. The sun warms my flesh and a gentle breeze whooshes by. Something caresses my body—the touch of a human hand.

My eyes flip open, startled by the sensation. Heat travels up my stomach and settles as dewy droplets between my breasts. Before I know it, my body feels lit up … but why? The crying has returned, only now, it sounds more like stifled whimpers. Could it be that a newborn kitten has been abandoned in the field? Poor little pussy, it must feel so vulnerable, so wet.

Suddenly, the sky darkens and a strong wind picks up twigs and whips them around. The air above me is cold and yet my body is on fire. I want to get up and run away from this field, but I can’t. My limbs are rooted to the earth. The ground begins to rumble and shake. I’m paralyzed except for the tiny sounds bubbling in my throat. It is then that I realize it’s my own crying I’ve been hearing. I’m in a dream of fields and flowers, and the sun is an aphrodisiac. The heat beats down on me. The wetness comes from within me.

When the heavens open up, and the first droplets of rain fall from the sky, I convulse and weep with release.