Something Else
The wooded hills behind her spacious condo had erupted into brilliant shades of orange, yellow and purple as autumn had fully announced its arrival. The cool crisp morning air invaded her lungs as she stood on the balcony sipping on Chevalier hot cocoa. The stillness of the early Sunday morning unnerved her a little but not nearly as much as what greeted her as she woke just minutes before. Kaye's period arrived almost a week and a half early. As a gentle breeze brushed its way past her causing her sensitive nipples to brush lazily against the softness of the robe that covered them, she thought about what first triggered her apprehension about an early arriving menstruation.
Two days after her twenty third birthday Kaye was greeted with a period that was a week and a half early. Through the fog of waking up and out of a bad dream, she noticed her “friend’s” arrival just as the whispers of a dream involving her grandmother, a lone gunman, and an escalator like sidewalk that prevented her from saving her dear Mamia from harms way were evaporating quickly away. She awoke out of breath and sweaty and it was in the shower that she heard it for the first time. Her phone rang but it didn’t ring in a familiar tone. It was as if the phone was ringing in an enclosed glass case that was imbedded in the side of her head. She chalked it up as something to do with her being in the shower with the bathroom door slightly ajar, even though that’s how she normally showered and had never noticed the phone sounding quite like that before. She initially ignored the phone and the strange sound it made but it was incessant in its mission. Forgoing the extra five minutes she liked to take steaming her skin she grabbed a towel and headed to answer the phone. Strangely the constantly ringing phone still sounded a bit otherworldly as she nervously reached to answer it in the calm and quiet stillness of her room with no shower running. It was her mother telling her that her grandmother was in the hospital. She had been shot walking to the mailbox early that morning. Later that day Kaye’s grandmother died.
Since then early periods coupled with a vivid dream had always been a harbinger of bad news. A boyfriend cheating on her with one of her girl friends. A job promotion passing her by. Car troubles. Since her grandmother’s death all of her early starting cycles were accompanied by a dream based premonition of bad news for Kaye. The earlier the period the worst the news seemed to be. Most, but not all, had a phone call associated with them. No one called her when she dreamed that Bush stole the election again. Only the call from her mother about her grandmother had that eerie ring that had played around in Kaye’s head for the 12 years since.
Through her bedroom window she could see the pad lying belligerently unused on the nightstand by her bed. She had not gone a single nights sleep since that day her mother called her without having something to write on and with within immediate grasp. She had documented every dream she had since. Trying to decipher messages in the benign ones and trying to stop the badness in the others. It had never been of much help as the bad ones had never been able to be stopped. In most cases the bad things in the dreams had already happened before having them. The “Bambi” dreams as she chose to call the non threatening dreams were so devoid of any information one way or another that they provided nothing more than exercise for “the real thing”.
This morning was different. Jarringly different. Her period was indeed early. Five minutes staring at the calendar running quick calculations over and over again had confirmed it. Kaye was not due for another 10 days. This was rare as she was hardly ever over a week early. When her grandmother was killed she was 8 days early. As cool as it was on the balcony of her condo she started sweating. Physically and metaphorically she was sweating the details of her dream. Sweating was all she could do as there were no details to speak of. Kaye had not dreamed this morning. She had read somewhere in her research of dreams that ninety percent of our dreams are done during the deepest part of our sleep sometime in the middle of REM sleep. She could have cared less about all the scientific information there was available on dreams. All she wanted to know was where was “THE” dream to go with her early arrival? Where was her warning of bad news? What was going to make her cry today? She stood there with the warm Lenox china cup in her hand waiting. She didn’t know what she was waiting for but was sure she’d know it when she did. She was correct. The delicate china cup shattered into a million pieces before the start of the second one. Her phone was ringing in the glass case and it had to be answered….eventually.
Two days after her twenty third birthday Kaye was greeted with a period that was a week and a half early. Through the fog of waking up and out of a bad dream, she noticed her “friend’s” arrival just as the whispers of a dream involving her grandmother, a lone gunman, and an escalator like sidewalk that prevented her from saving her dear Mamia from harms way were evaporating quickly away. She awoke out of breath and sweaty and it was in the shower that she heard it for the first time. Her phone rang but it didn’t ring in a familiar tone. It was as if the phone was ringing in an enclosed glass case that was imbedded in the side of her head. She chalked it up as something to do with her being in the shower with the bathroom door slightly ajar, even though that’s how she normally showered and had never noticed the phone sounding quite like that before. She initially ignored the phone and the strange sound it made but it was incessant in its mission. Forgoing the extra five minutes she liked to take steaming her skin she grabbed a towel and headed to answer the phone. Strangely the constantly ringing phone still sounded a bit otherworldly as she nervously reached to answer it in the calm and quiet stillness of her room with no shower running. It was her mother telling her that her grandmother was in the hospital. She had been shot walking to the mailbox early that morning. Later that day Kaye’s grandmother died.
Since then early periods coupled with a vivid dream had always been a harbinger of bad news. A boyfriend cheating on her with one of her girl friends. A job promotion passing her by. Car troubles. Since her grandmother’s death all of her early starting cycles were accompanied by a dream based premonition of bad news for Kaye. The earlier the period the worst the news seemed to be. Most, but not all, had a phone call associated with them. No one called her when she dreamed that Bush stole the election again. Only the call from her mother about her grandmother had that eerie ring that had played around in Kaye’s head for the 12 years since.
Through her bedroom window she could see the pad lying belligerently unused on the nightstand by her bed. She had not gone a single nights sleep since that day her mother called her without having something to write on and with within immediate grasp. She had documented every dream she had since. Trying to decipher messages in the benign ones and trying to stop the badness in the others. It had never been of much help as the bad ones had never been able to be stopped. In most cases the bad things in the dreams had already happened before having them. The “Bambi” dreams as she chose to call the non threatening dreams were so devoid of any information one way or another that they provided nothing more than exercise for “the real thing”.
This morning was different. Jarringly different. Her period was indeed early. Five minutes staring at the calendar running quick calculations over and over again had confirmed it. Kaye was not due for another 10 days. This was rare as she was hardly ever over a week early. When her grandmother was killed she was 8 days early. As cool as it was on the balcony of her condo she started sweating. Physically and metaphorically she was sweating the details of her dream. Sweating was all she could do as there were no details to speak of. Kaye had not dreamed this morning. She had read somewhere in her research of dreams that ninety percent of our dreams are done during the deepest part of our sleep sometime in the middle of REM sleep. She could have cared less about all the scientific information there was available on dreams. All she wanted to know was where was “THE” dream to go with her early arrival? Where was her warning of bad news? What was going to make her cry today? She stood there with the warm Lenox china cup in her hand waiting. She didn’t know what she was waiting for but was sure she’d know it when she did. She was correct. The delicate china cup shattered into a million pieces before the start of the second one. Her phone was ringing in the glass case and it had to be answered….eventually.
posted by Mak at 10:30 AM
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