I am standing on top of a tall building. My feet are clinging to the smooth concrete edge. I look down wondering how much time there will actually be between my fall and when I hit the ground. Somehow there is clarity. I can almost feel a sense of how the air will feel as I fall. It should be the biggest thrill of a lifetime. Those will be exquisite moments. Until I hit the ground and all my bones are crushed.
The dream provides a different view of waiting. Usually when you are waiting for someone or something to take place, there is anxiety. the restless and unsureness and fear of the unknown.
The interlude of time before the results of a medical, hospital or school test, the pain before having the root canal at the dentist, the unbelievable torture of while waiting for a loved one who is delayed, can give and stretch the sense of waiting for time to pass to unimaginable lengths.
Perhaps the dream brought up the desire to blog about how we wait during the interludes before certain events because I am writing about the main character in my Western novel chained up in an old school bus that’s buried underground where the air is thin.
His sight is blurry in the haze of a smelly oil lamp. It’s becoming difficult to breathe. He’s never ‘whipped out’ of a tough situation before, always been the take charge cowboy.
His resolve firms when he realizes periods of waiting always end. Loved ones return, pain leaves, decisions are made.
However, It is the time in between the end and no one tells stories about that.