Diary, Me

The chase.

Beads of sweat slowly ran down her fore head, despite the cold weather.  An eerie gloom in the air. Noiseless breathlessness. The eyes searched constantly. She spotted those cruel eyes as the door quietly opened. With every vein pounding, she grabbed the fastest run she could and darted out through the other door. Running for dear life. She heard the footsteps follow her. More than a pair of them. There was more than one man. A group was hunting her, and he was leading them. She had seen his face. Deep inset eyes. Sharp nose. Long curls of hair framing his face. Thin lips, almost made invisible under his moustache.  Strong tall frame, wide-set shoulders. Hunting her with intense fury. There was no way she could escape these men, if caught. The look in those eyes ran a chill down her spine. So she ran, panting hard. She searched for a spot to hide frantically. But she could spot none. The road ahead seemed infinitely long and dreary, with no hope for a sanctuary.  There were trees and bushes on both sides, and rows of houses, but not a soul in sight. Not even animals. Only the men following her.  And she ran…

She did not know why she was being hunted. Or who she was. Or who HE was. But she ran. She did not know where she was going, or what she was running from, or she was going to escape,  but she ran. She did not if she had the strength, or how long she would last this way, but she ran. The footsteps seemed to close in on her and at one point his hand almost caught her. She ducked, twisted and was back on her feet again. Her eyes looked skyward, hoping for some help from above. But the grey clouds and thick air provided no solace. A storm seamed to brew…
And I woke up.
This hunt is not an excerpt from a book. It was a dream, with all the minute details in place. I cannot believe that I can remember every single detail so vividly, but I do. I can still recollect those scary eyes as though I saw it for real and I can feel the pulse of the running woman as though it were mine. I am able to sense the fear that gripped her. I really did see the beads of sweat drip. Yet I cannot place why I saw this dream or remember it with all its intensity.
When I tried to read up a bit on this, I found that in dreams, running or chasing signified a change and the reluctance of the individual. The clash between the inevitable and the refusal of the mind to accept the change, takes the shape of the hunter and the hunted. But why I see this is still a mystery to me. I am not looking at any change right now. My job is stable; work, consistent and life, routine.  Yet I sense I am very unsettled. My mind, I am guessing is not at peace. The placid exterior is not an accurate reflection of my inside, I think.
I am still shocked at I can recollect a dream, this vividly.

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