Writing Prompt from Passionate Ink – Every morning when you wake up, something from your last dream of the night becomes real for an hour.
The Fortune Cookie…
Courtney wished the Ambien worked and left her dream free, but no… instead she found herself slamming her fist down on her squealing alarm clock and pushing the sand from her eyes. Dammit, the sand? Last night her dream of Rahul the towel boy plying her with Pina Coladas and offering to rub lotion into her back was pretty fantastic. Watching the sunset on the beach was lovely… but this morning did she have Rahul in her bed massaging her limbs? No, dammit, she had a freaking hangover from drinking cheap ass rum and there was sand in her hair. By the time she washed and dried it she’d be late to work, again!
She pushed the bedcovers back and tromped to her shower. Freaking Chinese Fortune Cookie. Your dreams will come true. What an idiot she was to add the stupid “in bed” line to it after she read it aloud at lunch. She looked around her bedroom and wished there was a way to make it stop. Every morning for more than two weeks something from her dream became real and it was never the good stuff. No, in the last two weeks she had been late to work because a dream bee-sting put her in a near anaphylactic shock after having tea in the garden near her grandparents home. Then there was demon that followed her home and broke her television while she tried to reason with it until it finally disappeared. Try claiming that on your renters’ insurance. She broke her toe in a dream and had to limp to work that day. It was hard to explain why her swelling miraculously was cured before lunch because none of her co-workers had the same luck when it came to their fortune cookies. No, Oscar didn’t get any money, Janet didn’t get a promotion, and Phil from accounting didn’t win the lottery playing the numbers on the back. He did, however, get slapped by someone when he tried to pronounce flower in Chinese.