Dreams

I am not a big dreamer. Whether I wake instantly or drowsily, I rarely remember dreaming, although people who have an active subconscious in their slumber-lives assure me that of course I'm dreaming, I just must not be aware of it. I think I've trained myself out of it.

I was tortured with nightmares in my late teens and early twenties. Never so much that I became an insomniac, but just enough that I must have told my brain to shut up, to delete those files before I awoke in the morning. Instead, I wake up with ideas. Presumably, they are fueled by whatever dreams I had, I just don't have the original source to refer back to.

But this morning, I woke remembering the outlines of a narrative story, complete with a title: "The Fraternal Order of..." (a one-syllable name, that now I can't recall). Upon regaining full consciousness, the characters and story were gone, leaving only the knowledge that I did indeed have a full-on, clever drama playing in my head last night.