Sweet Dreams
He awakened in the middle of the night, extremely thirsty. Water. That’s what he needed, and it was the only thing on his mind at that moment. Soon after, he’d quenched his thirst, returned to his bed, and was once again, fast asleep.
The mornings. He’d always been thankful for them, but now more than ever before. On this particular morning, he considered that perhaps something had happened overnight in his dreams, that may have helped to solve a subconscious issue that had been affecting him during his waking hours.
He didn’t recall having such a dream, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one.
He had been shaving when fragments of the thought came to him, fleetingly. But by now, it was time to decide what he’d wear that day.
In his book, he’d written about his plans for things he wished to, at some point in his life, achieve. Especially the number one thing, which is revealed in his book. That part might be similar to what some might call a bucket list item. (He couldn’t recall the thing at that particular moment, as he got ready in the ABC Good Morning America green room, but it was a real thing and it was definitely the thing).
He’d chosen to wear coveralls that day. He would make a fashion statement. They were regular old blue jean-type coveralls, but they had lots of patches with names of advertisers sewn on. That the coveralls were made especially for him, proved he was famous.
He wore a suit over-top though, so he could surprise everyone when he ripped it off to reveal the coveralls underneath.
He was known worldwide as a marketing genius in addition to his other accomplishments, but he was especially known for his inventions. And let’s not forget his popularity. The whole world agreed with him on everything. It was no wonder he was so popular.
He’d expected the streets to be filled with his fans as he drove to the studio, but the streets were surprisingly empty. There wasn’t even much traffic, even though it was the early morning rush hour.
After he arrived, talked to some studio person, and got ready, he went outside to where they would conduct the interview, and suddenly he was greeted by millions of cheering fans waiting for him.
“It’s not really time for the interview,” someone shouted, but it was time. Then everyone became silent. He decided he wanted to tell them about that one special thing he wanted to accomplish; that would be his crowning achievement, but the reporter wouldn’t ask him anything. Every time he attempted to speak, nothing came out.
He wasn’t sure if it was a problem with the microphone not being activated or if he’d actually lost his voice. The reporter ignored him as he tried to get her attention so his fans could hear him speak, but now they were leaving.
Finally, after an unknown amount of time had passed, and with just a fraction of the audience remaining, he was able to speak once again, but now it seemed to him that explaining his plan to so few would be useless.
He was about to leave himself, when the people started to return, and soon there were millions again, wanting to hear him speak.
The interviewer, now Michael Strahan, started by asking him about how he’d become so popular all over the world so quickly. He answered, ”First, I’d like to say, Good Morning America to my fans everywhere!” The crowd cheered for a really long time.
Michael tried to ask more questions, but he couldn’t be heard over the noise from the cheering audience.
Like an ancient emperor, he motioned with his hand for the audience to lower the volume of their cheering, which they did. Then, Michael asked him how he came up with his choice of the number one thing in his book, and suggested that he must have been kidding when he’d written that it was the number one thing.
He didn’t like that Michael had said that. He was one of the hosts and he should have known better. But instead of embarrassing Michael, he chose to let him continue with his folly.
As Michael’s voice droned on in the background, he could feel himself being pulled, one way, then the other; a darkness hovered above him. His mind went blank. A desperate thirst overcame him. He must leave in order to quench the thirst.
He awakened in the middle of the night, extremely thirsty.
Sweet Dreams © free-reign 2020
I’ve written this fictional story, as I was inspired by a prompt that I received in a daily email from 
Thanks for reading!
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