Member-only story
The Tower
A Vivid Dream 9
This is a piece in a growing series of mine about dreams and lucid dreaming. In these stories, I give first-person accountings of some of the dreams that I have each night. Identities and locations can shift around with little to no warning and the narratives don’t follow typical plot structures. For more of these stories, click here.
I’m watching a video of my friend at the Grand Canyon. From what seems like a third person perspective, I see her as she sits near the ledge with a guitar in her hand. Her guitar skills leave something to be desired. She’s sitting in a camp chair underneath a canopy that she’s set up and she’s strumming happily and obliviously away.
It’s unclear if there’s even a specific song that she’s attempting, but she’s enjoying herself so thoroughly that I can hardly blame her for the disordered strumming pattern that she’s sent reverberating boisterously through these timeless canyon walls.
The sun is slowly beginning to color the river that meanders softly through jagged summits of rock. But as I look down into the gaping valley, I notice that it’s alive with what seems like city lights. They’re sparse, but they appear to travel up from the abyssal base to where its sheer cliffs meet darkened sky. I wonder whether a subtle little city has been built into this hallowed geological attraction.
