He did it, wide-awake in a dream. He’d never meditated so well, or gone so far as he did tonight. He looked around his dream world, beaming with pride and figuratively patting himself on the back. During the last couple of pats the world faded to jet-black.
An icy foreboding wormed its way up through his stomach, gaining speed, freezing his thoughts into slow motion. He grasped helplessly for his conscious world, but could not awaken.
The inky darkness revolved slowly while caressing him lightly. Tiny pinpoints of light, interspersed with the darkness, allowed him to see a vortex forming around his presence. A barely perceivable tugging began edging him into an emerging tunnel. Fear gripped him more with each revolution. As the vortex gained momentum the pinpoints of light glided deeper into the tunnel. Soon they merged at the far end into a single light that invoked an unbearable urge to go to it. he resisted. Then, like the calm before a storm his fear subsided as an aromatic sweetness beckoned to him with veiled promises of fulfillment.
The calmness cleared his head, Anger replaced the calm. No! He’d do the controlling, He’d make the rules. He’d not let the tunnel trick him.
The tugging became a steady pull, causing his anger to flip-flop back to fear. The caresses became hard embraces. Insistent. His heart pounded so hard his chest hurt; the vortex spun faster and faster. He couldn’t look away. His breathing became labored, not enough air. The light became brighter the pull became stronger. He tried to scream, but his throat constricted. Paralysis gripped him. He felt the grim reaper ready to swing his scythe; A superhuman effort produced a long guttural scream. The paralysis broken, He began thrashing violently.
He bolted upright in his bed, sweat beaded all over him, running down his skin. He gulped in great quantities of air. The fear did not want to release him. He jerked his head around trying to look everywhere at once. He was unsure, was this real? Or was He still trapped in some metaphysical reality? He ran for the light switch, gasping for air and sanity
For the next four or five days He could hardly sleep even though He bordered on exhaustion. He was afraid the light and its tunnel would waylay him if he closed his eyes. It did try during the first day or so, but with no real power. He easily woke myself up each time it tried, but no matter how weak it tried to act, He still didn’t trust it
About two weeks after the incident, the excitement over, He laid his head back on his comfortable warm bed to contemplate what would have happened to him had he let the tunnel suck him in? Death? Everlasting paradise? Power over both worlds? The need to know permeated every molecule of his body. He remembered the sweet smell, the caresses, the overpowering desire to merge with the light. Zzzzzzzzzzz.
BUYING A BOOK
When readers browse in a bookstore, they’re looking for two things, the story goal, and the type of conflict the protagonist has to overcome to attain that goal.