Young Writers Society

This is a true account of a dream I had last night. It was so strange and funny...it starts out like any old dream, but then weird, hilarious things start happening. I had to write it down and post it. Please crit!

The Strangest Dream

or

The Ride of Nancy Nimbleheimer

I sit on top of the car, my arms on my knees and my chin resting on my hands. I gaze out over the busy, dusty parking lot, and tears roll down my face like a river of salt. I am inexpressibly sad, but there is no reason for my sadness. As the tears fall, drop by crystal drop, sweet and sad music begins to play. The violins are sobbing out heart-wrenching melodies that are a sound-track to my unknown sorrow.

People are passing by, and I recognize most of them. They are my friends, or those I called my friends, yet they do not stop; they do not speak. They keep their faces turned away from me, and I am glad that they do not witness my sorrow. I wonder if they, too, can hear the music that calls these sad feelings forth from my soul, and then I know that they cannot, for if they could, they also would be overflowing with these same tears.

Then another figure begins to come towards me. At first I cannot make out who it is, but as it approaches I see that it is a woman on an old-fashioned bicycle. She has long, fire-red, tightly curled hair and is wearing a blue jean dress that rises above her ankles as she pumps the pedals on her rusty bike. In one hand she carries a wooden bowl and with the other she steers the bike. As she nears me, I see that she is throwing something from the bowl...she is throwing small, shiny bubbles. Rainbow-fluorescent bubbles that spin and float, then land and make a small wet mark on the sidewalk. Then, as she passes me, she flings her arms wide, throws back her head and shouts,

"I am Nancy Nimbleheimer, and I have come to conquer the world!"

I am so startled that I almost begin to smile. The music of the violins begins to fade, and then it is gone altogether. I stare at the woman, and she grins widely at me, throwing back her head and flinging her arms wide once again.

"I am Nancy Nimbleheimer, and I have come to conquer the world!"

Her voice is high, shrill, and sounds incredibly happy and forceful. I don't know what to say, except,

"Uh...good luck!"

She grins and nods.

"Thanks! I'll remember you when I return!"

Then, with one more flash of bright rainbow bubbles, she is gone. I resettle myself on the trunk of the car, trying to call back a memory of the sad music and the unknown sorrow that I had within me. Yet I cannot. I begin to be frustrated, because Nancy Nimbleheimer has destroyed that deliciously miserable feeling I had. Before I can begin to remember my sorrow or fulfill my anger, I hear a shrill voice approaching. I sigh and turn towards the voice. Has Nancy Nimbleheimer given up so soon? She is approaching from the same direction she had come from at first, and I listen for her cries. They have changed, now...

"I am Nancy Nimbleheimer, and I have conquered the world! I am Nancy Nimbleheimer, and I have conquered the world!"

Her voice is still happy and forceful. She grins at me and winks, throwing a large, wet bubble into my face, where it pops with a wet, soapy blat. I wipe my face and get up, following Nancy Nimbleheimer through the parking lot. I am laughing quietly and I want to see where this lunatic is going. She enters a store called 'Rite Aid' and rides her bike up to the counter. There is a chubby, short man with a salt-and-pepper beard standing there, surrounded by candy and toys, and all the other harmless things that usually fill Rite Aid. Nancy Nimbleheimer's voice still retains it's shrill, shouting, happy quality as she addresses the man.

"My good man, it occurs to me that you need less of this namby-pamby merchandise and more high-powered guns."

I cover my mouth and snicker, unable to believe my ears. The man at the counter, however, does not even blink. He reaches underneath his counter where the medicine would usually be, and pulls out the largest machine gun I have ever seen. He holds it up proudly and shows it to Nancy Nimbleheimer.

"Guns like...this, you mean?" he says with a flourish.

Nancy Nimbleheimer jumps up and down and claps her hands, saying in her happy voice,

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Do you have a good supply of those?"

The man nods and grins at her happily.

"A whole storehouse full. I'll stock up right now."

With one arm he sweeps a shelf of toys off onto the floor where they land in a colorful plastic heap. Then he sets his large machine gun on top of the shelf where it stands, gleaming blackly and menacingly.

I am so overcome with surprise and laughter by this turn of events that I have to get out of the store before either one of them notices that I am laughing at them. I begin to walk across the parking lot. I am on my way home, filled with happier thoughts than I was when I left. But then, perhaps that is the effect Nancy Nimbleheimer has on people. [/i]