A NIGHTMARE BACK IN THE BRONX: MonWe, 1,27,14/ Dream on Monday. Create a Dreamscape Prompt

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on January 29, 2014 0 Comments


© 2014 by David Wainland

For MonWe, 1,27,14/ Dream on Monday. Create a Dreamscape Prompt

The trolley stopped and the conductor waved to me.

“This is your stop, Walton Avenue.”

Funny, I couldn’t remember the trolley coming this close to my apartment building in the Bronx. Still, I hadn’t been back in years, the tracks did run right through my block and there at the entrance my father stood waiting for me.

“Welcome home, David, mom is in the kitchen waiting for you. Soup’s on.”

He looked like dad, but his face seemed out of focus and he was a lot younger than I remembered.

“Dad, I thought you were..,”

“Dead, of course you did. Mom did also, the army discharged me and it took a long time to hitchhike home from Hawaii. Wow, have you grown. How old are you now?”

“Seventy-three, dad.”

“That can’t be,” his face turned red, “I’m only thirty and your mom, well she won’t tell me her age.”

The kitchen smelled of chicken soup and fresh baked cookies. I devoured the soup and reached for chocolate chip bar.

“Finish your liver first. Marty, David’s not eating his liver.”

“Mom the soup filled me up. In fact I have to go to the bathroom, right now.”

My bladder felt like it would burst.

“Your brother is in the bathroom and your sister is next. Hold it in.”

“I can’t, I’ll wet my bed.”

“Then get out of bed and do something about it.” Dad yelled from the kitchen.

I jumped out of the bed and ran to the nearest apartment and banged on the door.

“Aunt Ceil let me in. Please I need to use the toilet.”

“Uncle Murray is in there. Go to the candy store.”

I waited for the elevator too long and I started to wet my pants. Wait a minute, there is no elevator. I ran down the stairs. Too late I wet my bed and dad will be mad.

Jamie, my wife, pulled at the cover. “David get up, your dreaming again.”

Wow, it’s only a dream. I yanked at the blanket and made a beeline for the bathroom. The door was locked and my grandma was in there.

“Oh no!”


I sat up in bed. Jamie, lay next to me, “Why are you awake, is something wrong David?”

“Gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back to bed in a minute.”


About the Author ()

Crafter, writer, artist, retired and I love a good glass of wine.

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