Sometimes dreams don’t predict the future — they summon it. What would you do if your nightmare came knocking at your door?
Flash Fiction Prompt
The air still smelled of river water when he opened his eyes.
He woke up drenched in sweat, heart racing, his hands clutching the bedsheet as though it were the edge of a kayak. The dream had been too vivid—icy rapids, overturned boat, lungs filling with water, and the helpless drift into darkness. He stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, whispering, “Just a dream.” But the sensation of drowning clung to him like a second skin.
A sharp knock at the door shattered the quiet. He froze. Then came the voice — cheerful, unaware. “Hey! You ready to go kayaking?”
For a moment, the air thickened. The dream wasn’t warning him. It was inviting him back.
Question for Readers:
Would you face your greatest fear to prove it was only a dream — or would you stay inside and wonder forever what might have happened?