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Dreams and Nightmares by Candlelight's Journal

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Friday, June 15th, 2001
1:00 pm - Revelation
The scant illumination of the candle was tenuous at best, and the light thereof not expansive enough to reach the shadowed corners of the room. All-in-all, the venue was a bit unnerving, the sort that would unsettle even a stout soul.

Except for the figure who sat, hunched, quill making soft scratching noises upon the parchment. From elegant curlicue to bold line to timorous ellipses, each expression was art, crafted with obsessive concern.

The figure would pause and close dark eyes, to allow it's mind to wander at times, sometimes for days. What transpired behind those eyes was hard to explain. Worlds were birthed and broken, romances and tragedies envisioned, sagas of oppression and succession written. Then, the figure would open it's eyes, shadowed with lingering visions, and the quill would whisper the story to the parchment.

The tallow dripped like water, for the visions never quite stopped, and the dreamer never could walk away. It was amazing the revelations that came to mind, demanded release, there by the candlelight.

The book was private, and the entries kept close to the heart of the figure.

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