What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

The Blended Saga, Part 11: House of Dreams

Last week, on The Blended Saga:
The white disk has discovered that is errant follower has gone offworld. It is considering what to do next.

He woke up with a racing pulse and a clammy forehead - he had been dreaming of ferocious lions, severed heads, and...a shiny white frisbee? Oddly enough it was the frisbee that had scared him the most, but he couldn’t remember why. What was so important and terrifying about a frisbee?

He looked around at the now familiar hospital room and sighed. He wanted to go home; he wished he knew where that was. Memory had not returned to him, missing persons reports hadn’t helped, and he still had no visitors. He felt fairly certain he didn’t live in this city, but he didn’t know if it was wishful thinking: if he DID live here, no one was looking for him, and what did THAT say about him?

He flipped through the dream journal he’d been keeping, in hopes that would help jog his memory. The places he dreamt about most often didn’t look real, the colors were too bright, everything was too perfect - even in the dreams he could tell this. Often he also sketched what he remembered, and as he was going back over the drawings, his eye picked up something his brain had forgotten: there was a shiny white frisbee in several of the drawings. What the hell!

A phrase entered his consciousness: proactive dreaming. Someone had taught him about this. She (and he was fairly certain it was a she) had been laying out these large, beautifully illustrated cards. She’d told him that proactive dreaming could help him to resolve nightmares or troubling dreams. He was, before he went to sleep (she’d emphasized the word ‘sleep’ with a suggestive smile, had she been flirting with him? Or maybe they’d been intimate), supposed to do one of two things: if it was a recurring nightmare, he was to imagine a positive ending; if it was a troubling dream, he was to focus on what troubled him most, and hold that image in his mind as he fell asleep.
I guess I’ll be dreaming about frisbees tonight, he grumbled, but he had a smile on his face.

That night he focused on the frisbee, trying to recall everything about it. It had been glowing, it moved slowly on its own, sometimes it came very close to him but when it was close, he still couldn’t see any details. The glow obscured the actual frisbee itself, he wasn’t even sure it WAS a frisbee..........

The white disk, still waiting, again began to see an image forming. The image was the errant follower, he was in the same place as before, but this time the image processing center came up with a location: Emerald City Hospital, Seattle, Washington, USA, Planet Earth, Milky Way Galaxy. Coordinates were included. Puzzled (yes, white disks can be puzzled), it punched in the location numbers on its universal teleporter, and hit SendMeThere. Lights flashed, particles appeared, (the white disk drummed its virtual fingers as it waited for the teleporter to stop showing off), and then a lightning cloud surrounded it, and the disk was gone.

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