I Dream Of Dragons

There be beasties in the basement of my subconscious.  Yes, dragons, monsters, fiends of grisly portent.  In my dreams that is.  Important piece of information I have yet to divulge … I’m not the only mysterious being to cross swords with my particular piece of desert.

I suppose I should call it our slice of desert.  Two years prior to my appearance a young boy disappeared.  Same spot.  Never found.  The relevance?  When I dream, sometimes it is of this boy.  Long before I became familiar with his story, I witnessed his battles with all sorts of dragons while I slept.

 There is a desert plain.  The boy lives in a tree near a small pond.  Ten dragons live in caves in the far mountains.  And every day, the beasts come down to do battle.

Why should I dream of a child I have never met?  Saw his picture years later when I found newspaper stories on his disappearance.  Could this be synchronous?  Our misfortunes tied by shared sand?

Oliver Williams left his mother’s side while stopped along the same stretch of road.  He never returned.  Where did he go?  I ask because maybe the answer correlates with where I came from.  And why does he battle dragons?  Why, in my dreams, is it not me fighting reptilian villains with lance and sword?

This is where all research leads, a perplexing crossroads where there are more questions than answers.  Each dream seems familiar, with meaning that I should be able to grasp.  Yet, I am left awake in my bed without the book of ciphers to break this nocturnal code.

So, I witness the monster battles only to wake up hoping I am not somehow aligned with the dragons fighting fragments of a lost child.  A child who represents what to me?

M. Haygood