Thursday, October 22, 2015

Denise Callaway Week 172: Lost Dreams

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Picture 2

Denise Callaway’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Lost Dreams

Kelly shivered as she watched the full moon reflect from the motionless water. The letter jacket was worn and tattered, a remnant from her past. She pulled it closer to shut out the chill. The red solo cups bumping the edge of the shore reminded her of that night. One bad decision and all was lost.

They had barely graduated and she had joined her friends in the celebration at the lake. Loud music drifted out across the lake. She remembered the laughter. They were on top of the world. Then the lake patrol came onto the scene. People were darting everywhere. Cars moved quickly...and Kelly wasn’t quick enough.

Hours later, Kelly awakened in the hospital. She could see her parents’ frantic movements with the surgeon. She tried to speak but there were no words. Something was off. She could not place it. Then they realized she was moving and were in the room. Platitudes and assurances seem to come in dizzying degrees. As she was overcome with darkness, the truth of what had taken place continued to elude her. Days passed by like a blur. Moments of near consciousness followed by odd dreamlike sequences. She heard voices talking about her. The word “decision” was tossed around. Then another long period of darkness.

Kelly fought back from the shadows. Finally fully awake, she looked around the room. She was alone. Time to assess the damage. Reaching down to push up from the mattress, the damage became all too apparent. The thump against a stump of flesh hit the bar painfully. Her eyes widened with horror as her mouth opened to scream.

The nurses ran into the room. Hyperventilation. Panic. She began to fight them. Shouts to hold her still. Then darkness.

When she awakened next, her mother sat facing her. “!” Her voice was scratchy from lack of use. Her mother lifted a glass for her to drink. “I had a horrible dream! I thought I had no…” as she started to tell the story, she raised her arm. Her eyes widened with horror, “Mom! My arm!”

“I know, honey,” sadness filling her voice. “They tried to save it. Really, they did. But it was either you or your arm.”

Laying back, Kelly stared at the ceiling. What was she going to do? Her arm. Her drawing arm! She was an artist! The scholarship, the dream, all lost in a moment.


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Denise finds herself lost in a field of dandelions. With one blow, her dandelion dreams transform into the words on a page. Some of those dreams have found their way to her website:


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