Burnt Paiges

CHAPTER ELEVEN: HIM

Dreams of absent-minded transgression (DAMT) are visualizing wherein the dreamer inattentively performs an activity that he or she has been attempting to break (one classic illustration is of a quitting smoker having dreams of lighting a cigarette). Subjects who have had DAMT have detailed waking with strong sentiments of shame. One study found a positive affiliation between having these dreams and effectively discontinuing the comportment. The visual nature of dreams is generally exceedingly phantasmagoric; that is, distinctive places and objects persistently mix into each other. The visuals (counting locations, characters/people, objects/artifacts) are by large, reflective of a person's recollections and encounters, but dialogue can take on profoundly overstated and eccentric shapes. A few dreams may indeed tell expanded stories wherein the visionary enters completely unfamiliar, complex universes and awakes with thoughts, contemplations and sentiments never experienced before the dream. Carl Jung rejected numerous of Freud's speculations. Jung extended on Freud's thought that dream substance relates to the dreamer's oblivious wants. He portrayed dreams as messages to the visionary and contended that dreamers ought to pay awareness for their own good. He came to accept that dreams display the visionary with disclosures that can reveal and offer assistance to resolve passionate or devout issues and fears.

Paige's POV

Aww geez, why does falling hurt all of a sudden? Who? Ariamara? Is he talking to me?

I had dropped on my bum. The impact did bring about an uncomfortable ache in my spine. I hadn't processed it before, but my eyes were closed. In this state everything felt alien but magical. The grass blades felt soft as they brushed against my forearm, shooting impulses up my arm. The light, periodical blow of wind filled my nostrils. The air smelt awfully sweet, to the point that I could taste it simmering on my sensitive receptors. Aromatic honey. I wasn't sure but when I licked my lips, I tasted dew drops of sweetness. Sounds of a water source gurgled in the distance. It was the light pin points of pressure pleasantly irritating my hairs that made me open my eyes.

I was met by several distinctly beautiful wings perched on my skin. Butterflies. Their purely silver wings flapped synchronously with each other. But their translucency was really the most breath-taking part. However, he topped that, making me light headed. Luckily, I was already lying down. My head dipped a little and I could feel my face becoming flush.

"My bad, you're not who I thought you were," he grinned at me briefly, "but are you alright miss?" He asked offering a wide palm.

His golden eyes looked extraordinary, like rare treasure, one of a kind.

"Thank you."

"It was no problem."

He was striking, elegantly proportioned, but mature in bodice.

"My name is Paige, nice to meet you."

He hadn't let go of my hand, and didn't appear to be in the present, he was certainly wool gathering.

"Sir?"

"Hmm, I heard you. Pretty name. I am Kasim," his speech slowed as he became distracted again.

He was staring past my hair off into the distance, impulsively I also turned to see. There was nothing but savannah grass. Golden as it swished with the breeze.

I reverted my eyes back to his still, lost ones, stepping into his view, "Kasim?"

I could feel my digits gradually grinding past each other as his large hand gripped mine, beginning to squeeze it.

"Owww!" I whined. "Ok Kasim. STOP!" And he did.

"Did that hurt?" I shook my head wildly, inflating my right cheek, I was maddened. He wiggled his eyebrows.