Excerpt: Collecting Dreams

From the first story “Dream Drinker:”

Shadows stretched long over the ground, unwound caricatures of the leafless, sweeping branches above. All the leaves lay thick on the mossy ground, silent and still in the late autumn weather. Tender rays of blue-grey moonlight lined dark trunks, traced the edges of the ancient forest.

The dream-drinker peered out from the inky-dark center of a hollowed out tree, scanning the wood for signs of movement. It had no desire to be seen, to be found. Not tonight.

The moon hung pregnant and full in the sky; a perfect night for feeding. And it was hungry. Caution held the creature still, however. Moments ticked by one-by-one as it observed the quiet wood. The dream-drinker leaned out of its hole.

A twig snapped on the ground.

As if zapped by fear, the drinker darted back into the sanctity of its hollowed out tree. Its heart thudded hard against the walls of its tiny chest. Leaning out from its hole, it glared out into the wood.

A slender doe stole between the trunks. She paused, aware of observation, then strode on, unconcerned. The drinker had lived there for far too long. She slid between the black trees, disappearing. The dream-drinker leaned further out from its hole, and then slipped into the night.

***

Each flying step melded the Underland creature into the pale moonlight spilling down on the sleeping world. Its scaled skin rippled, almost quick-silver, as it trod familiar paths toward the little village. The orphanage lay on the outskirts–children have the most vibrant dreams, and many lived in the orphanage, making it the best feeding ground. The dream-drinker sidled up to the heavy iron fence encircling the orphanage lot. Judging the distance, it sprang, landing light on the spiked top. It hopped down, shambled toward the nearest moonlit side, and began to scale the brick and ivy structure. The dream-drinker liked to start at the very top, working its way down to the ground. Crawling down felt better on a full stomach than crawling up.

The bricks flew by under its feet until its glistening reflection wavered in the topmost window. Its guts growled, and though the drinker wanted to take a breath before entering the topmost room, its growing hunger pushed it forward.

The window slid open, revealing two young girls asleep in the room. The blonde snored light below, the shimmering haze of deep, full dream hovering about her head. The drinker turned around on the window ledge, lowering itself onto the bed-frame. The mattress edge sank beneath its weight. The blonde girl shifted, her rhythmic snoring interrupted. The dream-drinker froze.

Watching her with intense concentration, it waited until she resumed her constant breathing. The shining haze of dream remained unfouled by wakefulness; the drinker wiped slowly at the saliva dripping from its mouth.
This would be a feast. Hunkering down and cupping its hands, the creature gathered the brilliant mass and stuffed it into its wide mouth.

Delicious. It would have to take a bit of this one to remember her for future feeding.

The creature reached again and again, stuffing the iridescent stuff of dream into its greedy mouth where it slid like cool, sweet cream into the pit of its growling stomach. Eager, the dream-drinker hopped a little closer, bumping the headboard with its bony elbow as it gathered more of dream into its hands.

***