The Dream Eater (The Dream Factory)

Devastator, Transformers 2 (Photo Source:

Devastator, Transformers 2 (Photo Source:

I am a lucid dreamer. That is when you know you’re dreaming and you can feel your environment with unsettling clarity. I don’t have these kinds of dreams often—usually once I know I’m dreaming, the dream evolves to wakefulness rather quickly. But in some cases, maybe a few times a year that I can remember, the dream continues even past the point of being comprehended as a dream.

One such lucid dream I had several years ago began with (or at least my recollection of it is that it began with) me in the car with my sister. The terrain outside was desert—more rock than sand, though. There were some cliffs to the far left and the sun was behind us. It is nearing twilight.

At a point, our driver vanished into thin air (I was sitting in the front seat; my sister in the back).

“That’s weird,” I said.

My sister replied with, “What do you think it means?”

“I think I’m dreaming,” was my response,” and that’s when my awareness of the dream hit and my senses jolted into operability.

We went outside and walked over to the open area that led to the cliffs. These cliffs weren’t so far that we couldn’t walk to them in a minute or two had we wanted to. They weren’t massive, but they were still too big to climb.

It was here where my sister asked what I wanted to do now that I knew I was dreaming. I said what I most often say when I know I’m dreaming. I said I wanted to fly.

So I kicked off the ground and was flying…well, floating mostly. Then came a thundering noise, and in the distance was a giant machine that sort of looked like the big evil robot in the movie, Transformers 2—you know, the one that spins and sucks everything up. This machine was buzzing and whirling in the distance with a massive “mouth” with gears spinning inside.

“What is that?” I asked.

My sister said it was the dream eater. It clears your dream when it’s about to be over (upon wakefulness, it reminded me of Stephen King’s short story, The Langoliers).

Next we spotted a hole at the base of the cliffs. It wasn’t very big, but big enough for one person to slip through at a time. Flickering light spilled out from this hole in a wide range of colors almost like there was a television down there. We ran over to the hole and saw that it opened to a drop that went down about ten feet or so.

My sister went in, but she landed without a thud or any sound at all. We could fly, after all, so I presumed she was able to float down.

I asked her what was down there and she said:  “It’s your next dream. Come on!”

I said no. I wasn’t afraid, but I had the sense that it was time for me to wake up and that’s what I told her. She simply said, “OK,” and I woke up.


About authorphilpartington

Phil is a writing enthusiast of many years, having been published in numerous online and national print trade and sports publications over the past decade. He has spent the past five years delving back into the world of fiction writing, focussing on the fantasy, horror and suspense genres. Deshay of the Woods is his first novel.
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