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A Long Ago Dream

Dreamt in an old world with steampunk and Jules Verne tendencies.

By Bianca CorneliusPublished 10 months ago 3 min read
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A Long Ago Dream
Photo by Robert Anasch on Unsplash

Silence awoke Alfred in the early morning hours. For hours he lay stock still in his bed, listening to the silence beyond his wife’s calm breathing. Just to be sure he was not imagining it. When he was sure he was truly awake and not dreaming, he went over to where his dear wife lay in her own bed to wake her. He stroked her bare skin, following the pattern of her tattoo and quietly said in an almost whisper, “Good morning, my love. Come see, Mildred, it is finally finished. The invasion is over! We can finally go outside!”

As if shocked by electricity she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed and then, as if to restrain herself, rubbed her eyes. Groggily she asked, “Am I dreaming? Could it really be?”

Alfred had already pulled on a pair of trousers and now pushed a bundle of clothes into Mildred’s hands. They dressed expertly in the dark and then went out into the grey dawn. They agreed the first place they wanted to visit was the public park, so that is where they went.

As the park grew closer they saw they weren’t alone. There was already a crowd of people walking about and looking quite dapper in their finest Sunday garbs. Ladies with tidied curls and parasols; men with well-trimmed moustaches and sporting top hats. It was quite a sight to see after the long repression. Why, after so many years of being forced to stay below ground, the rising sun may just as well be all the twinkling lights of a county fair.

They’d walked a few paces along the path when they came upon a saucer that had crash landed there. They walked around it, looking at it, studying it, not daring to touch it for fear of what may still emerge from within. It was at this point when the first scream erupted from the throat of a lady who had been mingling in the field.

The moon had reappeared, hanging low and huge above them. Everyone stared up at it in disbelief. Black dots flew about, so many, in fact, that they nearly blotted out the celestial disc entirely. They moved in an organised spiral and then formed lashing tentacles that shot toward the earth and dropped large metal lumps everywhere.

One such lump landed in the grass where Alfred and Mildred stood, missing them only by a few yards. There was no time to think of such details now, as Mildred gaped at the thing in shock, and Alfred pulled her near frozen form to the other side of the saucer they had just been admiring. A moment later and there was such a bang that the metal ship -- their cover -- flew off into the distance and left the pair wide open for attack. They ran then, as did everyone else. It was complete chaos. The couple hadn’t even been aware of the sheer amount of people who had joined them, but they sure were falling all over each other now.

Moving fast, avoiding stumbling, and simultaneously keeping an eye on the sky to see where the next bomb would fall, Alfred had one thought left to him: Get back to the room. That beautiful room at the end of the long hall of the underground bunker. With its stale air and its pretence of offering vitamin D enriched imitation sunlight. If only they could just get back there, they would both be safe.

He ran and ran and finally realised he was no longer holding Mildred’s hand. He stopped and turned abruptly, looking for the lovely woman with the dark hair in the red dress. He spotted her at the bottom of a pile of people who had collided and fallen over one another. He pulled her up and they sprinted on toward the treeline, dodging a bomb that made them stumble and veer slightly off course.

They finally reached the safety of the trees, but the enemy was already there, waiting. They were taken captive and ushered into a saucer and put immediately to sleep.

There, in his subconscious, Alfred found Mildred once again and brought her to the bunker. There they undressed and lay down in their respective beds, bridging the gap between them by holding each other’s hands. Then Alfred initiated the emergency destruction button. At least this way he was still in control and they would not perish at the hands of the alien foe.

Sci Fi
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About the Creator

Bianca Cornelius

Do you enjoy your stories dark, like your coffee? Without sweeteners or milk to lighten the effect? Occasionally there might be some bittersweet chocolate thrown in for free; call it a mocha. Well, I might just have the right tales for you!

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