Soul Cages – Part One. Dreams in the Desert. 6.

We’ve reached Part One. 6. of Soul Cages. When we last left off, Marian and her family had gone back to the hotel for their last night before moving into their new home. ( PG-13 )

Soul Cages

 Lynn Kilmore

Second edition copyright © 2014 by Lynn Kilmore

Published by Osuna Publishing

This story is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Part One. Dreams in the Desert


I dreamed of the cluster of oaks next to the assisted living apartments where Grannie lived. The thick moisture of a summer dusk hung under the trees, teetering on the brink of becoming mist. I walked down the cracked stone path that led to the benches under the oak trees, following the scent of clove cigarettes to where Grannie sat.

It was not quite dark enough for the lightning bugs to come out.

“Come here, Marian,” Grannie’s voice called out to me, and I sat on the splintery wooden bench with Grannie—the plaque I knew by memory saying, “Given in Loving Memory of Sammy Washington.” I’d traced out the letters with my finger during long chats with Grannie while Henry tried to climb the trees.

Grannie’s sharp voice came to me; the shadows made it so I couldn’t quite make out her features. “Letty is thousands of miles away in Germany until August, and far away are your friends, and Henry’s teachers, therapists, and doctors. You’re on your own, honey, God help you.”

“I know.”

The wind began to blow, smelling of rainwater from the sea, and the leaves rustled overhead. My hair began to get in my eyes.

“The storm is coming,” she said. “You need what the Spirit can give you.”

The winds were blowing, leaves tumbling up and around me.

I awoke to the sound of the hotel elevator, and lay there for a moment, disoriented, wondering how I’d been blown from Raleigh to here, until I realized, Wait, I’m in Albuquerque, in a hotel. I could hear Henry doing wheeze-mumbles in his sleep in the other bed.

The clock read 3:07. Go back to sleep, I told myself. You just miss Grannie, so of course now you’re dreaming about her. Wish fulfillment.

But Grannie’s voice replayed itself in my mind, saying, The storm is coming. And I listened to Henry’s breathing, and found myself murmuring, “Please God, let it be all right. Please.”

************** End of Part One. 6. *****************

Good luck to everyone this week, LM

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