Childs Play [Short Story]


I write and dream, for without stories, we are nothing.
I write and dream, for without stories, we are nothing.

Finally! After a bit of a gap, I got my arse to sit down and work on something besides the comic-scripts that have been staring at me for weeks. I think I needed this change to sort-of unblock things, kind of a mental colon-blow! (sorry for that!)

Anyway, this time I decided I was going to really push my luck! SO, I’ve combined writing prompts from two different sources – Bekindrewrites InMon and Andy’s Two For Tuesday – and I gotta say, it was challenging as hell!!

For your information, InMon gave me five prompts which I in my usual fashion have incorporated into the text of this story (all of them!) and Andy required a story that had a metaphor or a simile every 50 words. Well except for maybe being every 50-60 words, I’ve incorporated all the above into this original little tale that I thought was both insightful and a wee bit disturbing by the time I had thought the idea through – yet somehow I feel like there is a hopeful tone to it all, even amidst the dark. Do let me know what you folks think, it’s what I live for with all this writing!


The first thing to be done was to engage his super-all-purpose body-suit. As a long-time navigator of lucid dreams, he was ever mindful of the “pinch-me” conundrum that was always a danger to the dreamer who wished to remain in this realm.

The very air shimmered around him like a cloud of diamond dust and he was covered in mere seconds from head to toe in a flowing metallic armour that he was certain made him look like a shiny, silver Iron Man from the outside. With a thought, he was floating off the ground now. This world was his own stage and he was it’s director and so he rose, leaving behind the idyllic forest his mind had brought him to upon his slumber.

He was headed to The City.

1278429594_1356238692When he had first begun to realise he was capable of waking within his dreams, it was the ultimate in childs play. Like a kid in a candy store, he went from confused to excited to scared to wild-unadulterated joy. The waking world was not a pleasant place and he had been broken by it. Now he had found within his own mind, a possible key to fixing his life – like a mechanic overhauling an engine, he would traverse his mind and fight back, rage against the dying of the light until all was shiny again and the bad but a speck of darkness.

But first, he had to get to The City. His fortress, the place he had built peopled by the good parts of his inner self that fought beside him. Like a general of old, he had rallied them and now, after years of battle, they had the upper hand. He could see the buzz of activity at the Skyport, they knew he was coming and preparations for the final push were underway. Sky-cruisers glimmered in the morning light, behemoths were they that might outmatch even the Titans of old.

The tumultuous sounds arose as he flew closer, his people prepared for war and awaited their leader. Doing a fly-by, his mind wandered and he found himself remembering how it all began. He had been a happy child and grown well and been loved, but then slowly something insidious ate away at him from within, like maggots on a corpse they slowly ate away at his mind and heart. Even the lucid dreams that had no concept of time began to get affected. There were times when he was lost for days in a haze of sorrow as if these demons were rotting away time itself and he was losing all sense of it.

But like the Phoenix from it’s own ashes, he would rise again. He would not go quietly into the night.

Alighting at the command level, he approached his officers who were already moving toward him. Today was going to be the day. They had not been able to breach the enemies defense but this time they would win through.

It mattered not what the doctors said. He was not like Custer or Tipu Sultan, he would win.

He would wake up.

And then one day perhaps they would let him go home.

5 Comments Add yours

  1. ahblack57 says:


    I enjoyed this. A touch of Sci-Fi without hitting you in the face with it. I can also see a lot of your comic book influence in this as well. I hope he wins his battle against whatever his doctors said would be victorious. I loved that idea (if I’m reading this correctly) of using his lucid dreams to wage war against a very real illness that is hellbent on devouring what is left of his life. Great job of rising to my prompt. A fine effort my friend. A very fine effort.

    Feel free to disabuse me of my misconception if I got it wrong…

    1. Spider42 says:

      Thanks so much ah!
      You not only got the gist of it all but also saw the comic influences (in something like this it’s bound to show up I guess!) and as always your feedback is very much appreciated. If you have any notes/thoughts on how I could better it when I get to editing (eventually) and if I managed to pull of your prompt suitably, I’d love to hear it!

  2. Stephanie says:

    Oooh, interesting, and a good mix of light and dark. I was fascinated by the magic of the language, the conflicting feelings within him of freedom and of confinement within the dream. Very cool. Welcome back!

    1. Spider42 says:

      Hey Stephanie! Thank you, I’m so glad you enjoyed it, this one was a quick one time-wise to write, but my imagination was cutting loose a little here. I could see this expanding to a fantastical journey into mental health somehow.
      And regarding the welcome back, thank ye fair lady of the kindly quill-pen. I’m around even when silent, just short on time, but nice to be missed!
      Look forward to next prompt and if you don’t mind, I’m mashing it with Andy’s again because I’m loving this 🙂

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