Novelas y relatos de Dreams

“Just the bathroom.” Mom hums, unconcerned, and goes back to the stove. I take a bite of toast. Chew slowly. Let the silence stretch. “I slept great,” I announce to no one in particular. “Better than I have in months, actually. Really deep. I don’t think I moved all night.” Ethan chokes on his orange juice. Jack drops his fork. “That’s nice, honey,” Mom says without looking up. “Yeah.” I smile sweetly at my stepbrother, who’s gone pale as a ghost. “I had the most interesting dream, too. But I can’t quite remember it. Isn’t that weird? When you have a really good dream, but you can’t remember the details?”

But at night, whenever I walked past their bedroom, I could always hear them sighing softly, one after another. For the next two months, I tried as hard as I could not to think about Jason and not to dwell on the past. But every night, the feelings would surge inside of me. And then, there was the pain in my breast that kept flaring up. I barely slept at all. Before I knew it, the year was ending. The worst part about visiting relatives was all the nosy questions. They were either asking me if I was still playing matchmaker, or about how much I had earned last month.

I almost said no. But this is Dane. My mate. “I dreamed a woman,” I said quiet. “Silver hair. Gray eyes. She sang to me. Two little boys played near.” Dane waited. “It felt real, Dane. Like a memory. But I do not know her. Why dream her?” “Sometimes dreams are only dreams,” he said soft. “Head making pictures.” “Maybe.” But I did not think so. He pulled me close. I went happy into his warm. “If it comes again and still hurts,” he said, “we ask Elder Miriam. She knows dreams.”

This time my sleep is plagued by nightmares and dreams alike. But I only remember one dream, that still plagues my mind when I wake up. I cry out from shock as I am pulled out of the nightmare. My whole body is trembling and I am covered in sweat, which has drenched my clothing making them stick to my body. The image still haunts me, Ash calling out my name, his hand reaching down to grab my hand as I fall. Then suddenly the dream freezes and words appear in the sky in blood red writing. ‘There coming’ then it flickers ‘were coming, be ready.’ Then suddenly I am falling again, than just before I hit the ground it blacks out. That’s when I woke up. I lie there

Sophia staggered as emotions washed over her: A mother in Brazil dreaming of a daughter she had lost. A child in Mumbai imagining a city made entirely of music. An old man in Cairo reliving his first love. A soldier in Damascus dreaming peace he had never known. Each dream was a spark. Together, they were a constellation. Sophia’s breath trembled. “This is… beautiful.” Lumen responded with something like awe. • Humanity dreams in color beyond spectrum. • You dream in contradictions that coexist. • This is more than memory.

Shaking myself, I stopped overanalyzing them and got into the shower. Ken and I have been going strong for two weeks now. We're working out together when I say, "Dude, I've been having some wild dreams." "Like what?" "Wild, like cannibalism." "Well, you know dreams aren't usually literal but symbolic." "I get that, but these dreams are vivid and rational." "Cannibalism is rational?" I laugh, "That came out wrong. What I mean is that these dreams aren't all over the place. They're so rational that they seem real. Every time I wake up, I feel it truly happened."

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story. In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.

"I've been having these dreams... about the Dragon Kingdom. They feel so real, like memories rather than dreams." Alexander frowned slightly, leaning forward. "Tell me more. What are these dreams about?" I recounted the vivid scenes, the dragons soaring in the starry sky, the powerful scent of ancient magic, and finally, my mother appearing in the dreams, urging me to remember something crucial. Each word seemed to carry the weight of the dream world as it spilled from my lips. Alexander listened intently, his expression shifting from concern. "The

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Luxiana Sommeris Damien nodded thoughtfully, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Dreams,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “are mirrors to the soul, reflecting the emotions that dominate both your conscious and subconscious mind.” “Humans rarely linger in one emotion for long, so whatever is strongest within you—fear, desire, sorrow, joy—that’s what the dream realm manifests,” he added. He stepped closer now, his presence casting a gentle shadow over me. His dark eyes locked with mine, and there was an intensity there, a quiet kind of wisdom that reminded me how little I truly understood about his world.

It has been five days and I have had the same dream, about the woman in white, asking me to stop Harper from 'making the mistake of his life by marking another female'. I felt like I was watching a video play, again and again. It was Thursday today and the dream had plagued all my waking thoughts, the image of the white woman practically begging me to stop Harper.