**These are two pieces of writing, each based on two different dreams I've had recently, and alas, can remember only hazily.  Most of what is written was what I can remember, but I added some (mostly necessary) details and of course tried tying it together so it made some sense.  The first one I think I'll just leave it as it is; but the second one...I don't know, do you think it could lead to a story?**

 

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I dream of horses

            I looked about me at all the horses. So many horses! I found myself wandering about, talking to them, exclaiming when I saw one that was particularly pretty.

           And then it happened.            Suddenly I was on a horse.             A big horse.            He was tall and broad, chestnut-colored with a creamy mane and tail. (Or was it she? I never found out.) He had an expansive belly, but I found my legs could wrap around him pretty well.             Which turned out to be a good thing.             We were galloping.            Such a wild ride! The air whooshed past us, and the landscape about us became a whirling blur. I looked back and saw a smaller horse galloping after us. But he was no match for my horse.             My first gallop, and I was surprised that I hadn’t fallen off. More so because I was gripping only with my knees. Laughing at myself, I dug my fingers into the creamy mane and thought of Alec riding The Black in The Black Stallion. But this was so much better, because I was the one who was experiencing it.            My horse ran for a long time, without even a hint of slowing down. I remember feeling his powerful muscles, his great sinews, his dominating body. I remember feeling at home. I felt no fear, only deep, deep joy. I was so glad.             I was so glad just to be riding again.            We galloped until the smaller horse gave up and rejoined the other horses. Then finally, my horse slowed down. I looked about me, and I had never seen the land about me before, but I somehow knew it. We cantered on at a gentle pace, riding still – riding, riding, riding….           And then suddenly, it ended.           My dream was done.

 

~

 I dream of a forest

           The Darkness was about them. But the figures strode on. There were four of them: three were cloaked and hooded, blending into – but not with – the Darkness, save for a single white gem on their breasts. The fourth was unmasked: a woman, clad in dark grey armor. Black was her hair, twisted up into braids on her head; but very, very pale was her face. A white face, a quiet face, like the calm expressions on statues carved of marble.             Indeed, the Darkness was about them. In amongst the trees it dwelt, slithering about in burning shadows, smoldering with intensity. All was calm, a deathly calm, and too quiet for a forest. The forest stretched for many miles, far as the eye could see; but as far as the eye could see, or the ear could hear, there was no living creature.           Empty. Empty and watchful and lifeless.           The very trees were black.           The company walked between those dark trees. Apprehension was in their steps. Fear was in the woman’s eyes, not a cowardly fear, but a whole and well-grounded fear. Like the soldiers’ fear before they go into battle. Only the foolish ones pretend they do not feel it; the brave ones march on with their swords in hand. So the woman and her companions. They glanced at every shadow, and nothing leaped out at them – yet – but still they pushed on.           Even their footsteps were muffled in the ashy ground. The ground was like a tomb: cold and grey and relentless. And as mourners in a graveyard speak seldom, and in hushed voices, so the company said little, and then only softly.           The trees were black, the ground was grey, and the sky was red.           It was Death.