Flash Fiction Month July 4/Familial Feast ~ Dreamcatcher

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt Familial Feasts.
Many countries celebrate Father’s Day and Mother’s Day. If you could dedicate a holiday to a more distant relative, who would it be — and why?

And in response to DeviantArt Flash Fiction Month July 4’s prompt

I’m a little late in posting but I had a friend at home so I was playing guide and enjoying precious time with a dear friend I hadn’t seen in almost two years 🙂 .


They were laughing loudly at Theo’s story. It was a good one to be honest. But did they have to be this loud.
She hadn’t seen her entire family in almost a year. She’d missed them like crazy but not the obnoxious and loud Theo who always had to be first in everything he did. And because she was born first, he resented her. So ever since they were old enough, her brother always thrived to be better than her. Even today on siblings’ day.
“So Kirra? What about you? What story do you have to share? Anything as good as your brother?”
She shrugged.
“Probably not.”
“Come on. Tell us. There has to be at least one thing.”

Sure there was lots to tell. But not much she wanted to share. They’d find her stories boring. She wasn’t like them. She found satisfaction, fulfillment differently.
She did share then. Just one thing she’d experienced. They all knew she’d moved to Toronto earlier that year looking for something new. They’d been upset about it so no point in emphasizing that part. She’d worked there but not finding much that would totally rock her world. People were the same as here. Until him.
He had ambition and projects. He dreamed big. Really big. He’d worked three jobs since high school to put money aside and had what he believed – what he knew – was a great idea. He’d go on and on about it, excited like a kid. He could get everyone excited about his project. He was going to transform people’s lives. His was something that would be as important to mankind as the discovery of penicillin. He had just received the final ok from the bank for the loan to get his project started. He worked like a crazy man; he was inspiring and compelling. His mind worked in his sleep quite literally, devising plans and strategies. He never really stopped. Until her.

They’d actually met at a coffee shop. He’d ran into her dropping his coffee all over her shirt. She had her head in a book and he in his cup. He’d been so embarrassed. He might dream and live in spheres other people didn’t reach but he was polite. He even offered to replace her shirt. He’d been so insistent in a apologetic way that she’d accepted. They’d walked to the Winners nearby and she’d grabbed another shirt that he paid for. They’d started a conversation. He’d asked about her book, she’d asked about the thing that got him all distracted. They’d struck up a friendship.
His dreams changed. Well they didn’t, not completely but they included her. Love was such a powerful emotion. It fulfilled like few other feelings. They’d dated and love grew stronger, ever more present. She loved his project, got involved in it. He loved her curious mind and her never-ending question that made his plans even more solid and interesting. They dreamed of a life together. And just before she left, he’d popped the question and she said yes.
“That’s what’s happened to you this year?” Theo asked with a sneer. “One man?”
“One man in love Theo. In love with his ideas, in love with a woman.”

She interrupted. She wasn’t like him. He ate dreams as he ate jellybeans. By the dozens, but like jellies he ate dreams that weren’t fulfilling. She was choosier. Yes, she’d fed on the dreams of one man for a year. And one woman afterwards. But she didn’t need more.
She didn’t care for silly dreams; she didn’t want to rob children of their childhood fantasies. Theo loved being the monster under the bed. She didn’t. She preferred meaningful dreams. That man – whose name she didn’t know – had big positive dreams. Why would she want to eat dreams of war and anger, even of humiliation and comedy? Thanks to dreams of love, she was fulfilled. Love was fulfilling. And that was her offering to her brother, who wouldn’t appreciate it, on Sibling’s day.


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