Waking the sleeper

Prompt: “I woke up when?”


The dream took a strange turn in the earliest hours of the morning. While he could not pin down the exact beginning of the dream, the first thing that Justin remembered was being at work. Stacks of paper appeared on his desk whenever he turned his eyes away. When he tried to sign his name on the line where it was required, either the pen would twist out of his hand, or the paper would slide itself from under his hand. When he tried to check his email, the mouse or keyboard would dance away from his grip, or else the monitor would turn around so he couldn’t see what he was reading or typing.

It was a very frustrating dream, but it was one that Justin had often enough, in one form or another. Though in his dream it was bright midday the wall clock showed it was an hour or two past morning. The clock never read the exact time and it was never the same twice, but some part of Justin’s dreaming unconscious knew it was early. That’s when the dream leapt into something else altogether.

It happened with that abrupt vagueness that all dream-transitions take. One moment he was trying to pour coffee into his mug in the break room while the stream of brown liquid flowed upward away from his cup like a magic beanstalk growing into the clouds, the next moment he was at home in his bed.

Everything had a peculiar quality, a blurriness around the edges that sometimes spread into a double of whatever he was trying to focus on like the twinned vision of a drunk. At least I’m not dreaming about work anymore, Justin thought. But it was a preliminary thought, as if he was still not quite sure that he favored this new dream to the familiar, yet frustrating, old one. He swung his legs out of bed, feeling as if the floor was too far away from him.

“You’re up.”

It was an odd little voice, coming from the floor next to the bed. Justin looked down and found that the speaker matched the voice: wizened, ancient, and small. It was a man, or maybe a goblin. Something small and wrinkled, stick thin except for a large round head and comically large ears and nose. Justin still felt strange though and didn’t laugh. Besides, his subconscious had never presented him with anything so odd before, and he did not know what to make of it.

He shrugged and yawned. He quirked an eyebrow; he’d never felt tired in a dream before. “Yes, I’m up. What are you?”

The little man-creature turned his head this way and that, looking over his shoulders so fast that his floppy ears and pointed nose bobbed. It reminded Justin of the nervous mannerisms of a park squirrel.

“You could not say the name of my people, but it means something like ‘Those who fell between the cracks.’ But we haven’t the time for this, you have been noticed and we must leave here now,” the tiny man said.

“Why? What’s your name? Noticed by who?” Justin mumbled his questions in no particular order. He would much rather have been dreaming about Melissa from Shipping.

The tiny elf, or goblin, or whatever his mind was trying to show him, grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his feet. Standing, the little man came only to his knees. “We must leave because Dark Powers seek you, and we,” here he made a noise that sounded something like an underwater bird call, “do not wish to see the Dark Powers return.” He gazed intently at Justin and he was surprised to see that the thing was near tears with fright. “Things are wakening…

“As to your other two questions, I should not answer. Names have great power and I cannot trust you with mine yet, and no wise-thinking being would dare to utter the name of the other.”

Justin had actually forgotten his other two questions, so he merely shrugged.

It was probably the sausages he’d eaten last night. Whatever the link between indigestion and strange dreams, it was strong. He stepped into slippers and belted his robe around his waist while the little man continued his squirrel imitation and shifted from foot to foot.

“We must leave now!” Justin’s strange dream-guide implored. He shrugged again; it seemed the only proper reaction to such weirdness.

Justin thought that he should maybe eat before going out, perhaps just a round of toast since his little companion seemed in such a hurry, then chuckled at the newness of being hungry in a dream.

“This way,” the little man said. “They look for you in the above-world, so I will lead you to between. They will not think to look for you closer to their powers, they will expect you to run away.” He tugged on the hem of Justin’s robe as he talked, leading him to the front door.

His own house began to take on new dimensions, only half perceived as Justin was led out of the door. All of the colors seemed just a shade off of what they should be, like he was walking in a poor copy of his own world.

“Can you not walk faster with those long legs? It took me long enough to wake you from that odd dream of yours.”

Justin smiled bemusedly. “Compared to this dream the work part is normal.”

“This is no dream, though I wish it were,” his guide responded.

Justin stopped on his front lawn, staring as the creature continued to try to pull him along by the hem of his robe. “No, I’m asleep.”

The little man turned and swiftly pinched Justin’s calf, grinning ruefully as he hopped onto one foot, cradling his smarting leg in his hands. “The Dark Powers are awake and so are you. I woke you from that dream as you were pouring that muddy liquid into the air.”

Justin stared. “I woke when?”