Weird dreams August 2015

River close to my new office!

It’s been a while since I told you any of my weird dreams. 

Since I got up at 5.30 this morning because one of them, I guess it’s time to share them with you again.

As I might have said already, dreaming and remembering once more some bits of them, makes me think I’m relaxing, which makes me happy.

Dreaming is important for me because sometimes gives me inspiration for my writing, although at the moment some images of the new job hunts the dreams in the form of a boring and nasty background! 

So let’s start with last night or this early morning one.

I was in a corridor and there was a person looking like an old Stephen King who came after me once he discovered who I was. I tried to run away and hide behind a door in the middle of the corridor but in a blink he was next to me, he lifted me by the neck and he said “Where is your daughter? I’m going to kill your partner first” and I was destroyed but I had to protect her, so I didn’t tell anything. But then I saw another scene in which a complete stranger was gagging for air. He didn’t kill my partner. I just heard someone shouting “Aaaaalex!”


The night before I was running away from something and at some stage I was waiting in a back garden of someone else’s house, there was a man with me. I don’t remember who he was but at some stage he said “Come piggy, piggy” and then a huge boar came rushing in and I took him down with two arrows well assessed.

This might be the proof that watching Hunger Games films and reading Mockingjay before bed isn’t wise.


I loved the dream of the day before. 

I was ready to sacrifice myself I don’t even remember for what or whom and I was sitting in the Impala with Dean Winchester who tried to comfort me giving me a long romantic kiss. Oh his green eyes…

This means that reading Catching Fire and watching Supernatural before bed, can create a nice surprise!


Following I’ll write down other dreams in no particular order. 

Just remember that I can only recall some scenes, not the whole thing. Like the ones before I can remember only the part that caught my attention. 

I had to find four transparent or white marbles in the most weird places. This was the only way to kill the dragon. Silvana was with me. Someone had a baby but could not be disturbed. The atmosphere wasn’t nice or happy.

We went into a shop. Someone who worked with us found the last marble “Your granddad wouldn’t be happy” I said. Then I realized that the sachet with all the stones already collected was ripping at the bottom.

I tied the two corners (of what I cannot remember!)  to avoid problems. Luckily Maya’s tissue prevented the marble running all over….


There were blue and pink bolts of lightning in the sky. At the same times,  there were deep green cotton balls fluttering in the air. The bolt of lightning were falling vertically and horizontally to the ground and they fell close by. 

I asked Chiara to close the shutters and in that moment I saw the sky, which was sunrise light blue and pink.

I’d say I’ll leave you here, I found the list of past dreams and I promise you I’m going to write them down in the next post! I’ve become a very time crunched person and this post as well was written on a train to work!

But I need blogging as I need reading and writing so I hope you’ll understand my dear readers!

Have a lovely day!

Today is sunny in Dublin too! Well, at least for the moment!

Monster flash – The lost grimoire

Google search!

Hi readers!

Here is another example of flash fiction, as the one I believe many of you liked last week. I still have a few notes about queer people I jotted down in the past. 
Commuters in the morning and afternoon are the usual boring salary men, so I have nothing picturesque so far. 
This short piece was already written, I’ll have to think more about the others. 
I hope it will be fun for you as it’s been fun for me. 

A lady who works in the offices of my ex-workplace volunteered to collect a black plastic briefcase addressed to one of her colleagues saying that she’ll tell him the two items delivered with the briefcase were still at the desk. Later in the morning, the person who was supposed to receive the delivery came to the desk looking for the whole deliver, briefcase included. Problem was I didn’t know the name of the lady but I recognized her in the security camera. Although giving an accurate description (long trench coat and fedora hat) she didn’t seem one of the ladies working in the office.

The man gave up and went back to his office.

The very same lady I saw in the morning turned up half an hour later coming through the same door  bringing the briefcase with her. She smiled, apologised and said she would leave it with me and strolled away.

Now Franny, think!

“Martha, where is my grimoire?”

“I don’t know mum. It must be in the kitchen among the cooking books!”

“Cooking book! Oh these new generations!” her mother muttered and then rising her voice “That’s where I’ve looked already. It’s not there!”

Martha looked frantically for it on the messy table. Her husband was out for the evening and told her he would stay at his best mate’s for the night.

She then invited her mother to stay at her place so they could replenish a few potions bottles and try a new one for the Creative Witch Fair competition 2015. Being a witch and being married to a man who didn’t know everything about her life was difficult sometimes.

However, for how long they looked for it, they couldn’t find Martha’s mum grimoire.

“Look, mum, I’m pretty sure I didn’t bring it with me at the black cat club yesterday but my briefcase is in the living room. We can check anyway!”

Her mother looked like she could have a panic attack any minute. She’d been compiling that book for hundreds of years and she wouldn’t believe it gone!

Martha went to the living room, propped the briefcase on her lap and opened it only to scream a second later.

“What?!” her mum yelled running from the kitchen and holding her breast “Did you find it?”

“Nope” Martha said becoming as pale as the woman in front of her “Dave must have taken my briefcase by mistake! I bought one for him too when I went for mine!”

“Well” said her mum urging Martha with her hands “Then it’s easy! Call him and tell him to come back!” she smiled but her lips were shaking and her eyes were far too wide.

Martha cleared her throat, adjusted her hair behind the ears and dialled the number. Her squashy sofa seemed having gobbled her up. The talon of her hand was massaging her forehead.

“Dave?” She shrieked and then adjusting the tone “Hi honey. Oh yes I’m OK! Oh nothing’s wrong, not really” Martha said clearing up her throat again “Do you know the black briefcase you took with you? Well, yeah it’s mine…I have yours here and I need mine back”

She looked with even wider eyes in her mum’s.

“Oh, no…not that urgent. There were just some cook recipes inside…nothing that cannot be sorted”

She hung up the phone and didn’t say a word trying to disappear even more, if possible, into the sofa folds.

“So? What did he say?” her mother asked.

“He doesn’t have it!?”


“Yeah he said he gave it to his friend to deliver to the Monster Factory tomorrow morning”


Plan was set.

They talked and thought through it in details.

Martha was to stay at the corner of the Monster Factory entrance wall and wait for the delivery guy to bring in the delivery.

“It’ll take ages” she whispered to herself sipping her coffee. She looked at the sky, adjusted the collar of her coat to cover her cheeks. It was still very dark.

After about an hour the little van pulled over and the delivery man brought in a few pieces. Among them she saw the briefcase.

She had to wait for the first lady coming in the courtyard heading for work. And here she was.

“Excuse me ma’am!” Martha said.


“Do you have the time?”

“Oh yes, it’s half eight” the lady said checking her watch.

It happened all very quickly. Martha touched her watch and said “Come back in an hour or two and deliver the briefcase you’ll find beside this door”

The lady just nodded and strolled away not at all aware of what she was doing. Martha took her badge and cast a couple of spells on her to resemble the picture on the ID: Melinda O’Neil.

She walked with long sure strides towards the entrance.

“Good morning” said the girl at the desk.

Martha pushed the brown fedora hat down to cover her eyes, the badge in sight just in case.

“Morning!” Martha said going closer to the counter “Is that stuff for the offices?”

“Oh yes, I was about to send them an email”

“Oh no need. I’ll bring them the briefcase myself”

“What about the other the other two bits? They’re for the same person!”

“Well, they look heavy. I cannot carry everything, now, can I?” Martha smiled “I’m going to bring this upstairs and then tell him there are other two items to be collected”

Martha snatched the briefcase from the girl’s hands and rushed away. With Melinda’s badge opened the exit door around the corner and when she was outside the gate she checked inside.

There were a few spells all right but no grimoire. While exchanging Dave forgotten files with her spells she called her mum.

“Mum the grimoire isn’t here!” she said as soon as she picked up the call.

“Oh yes…oh well sorry. Aunt Moira had it! I’ve just found out. Sorry honey…”

Martha didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She hung up and putting the briefcase and the badge at the precise spot where the real Melinda was supposed to take them, she turned into her normal self.

So what do you think? That to me would explain why the lady turned up a couple of hours later holding the case, apparently not aware of the fuss made to look for her!

Monster flash #6 – Pad and the demon

As you know already I’m doing some exercises coming from the book I’m reading now. The good thing coming from those exercises is that I’m thinking a lot. It was during one of this thinking session that I realized that I’d done load of observation in the past. More than that, sometimes I created stories. This one, if you remember, comes from the previous job tag. 
This is an example. Take it as a draft and a fee writing exercise!
Google search, the monument dedicated to the famine in Dublin.
Several months ago I was on tills and here he comes. He was a short stout man, muscly type. The kind of man you could find in an old style farm to make you understand. He rested his right bandaged hand on the counter. The bandage was very tight, the knuckles were covered and also the interphalangeal joints were singularly tightly bandaged…

His fingernails, both hands, were black and filthy and his hurt hand was shaking. He seemed touchy, nervous and red for the fatigue.

Now, Franny, think!

“You will give me a bit of your hand, the very same hand you use to work your land”

“But how will I manage to work if I do that?”

“No need. Whatever your kids will manage to do, it’ll be enough”


“I must remind you, human, you’ve summoned me!”

“Yes, I know but…”

“Of course you’ll die stupid creature…eventually. But, hey, this is the famine, you can’t expect everybody to survive…can you?”


“Your offspring will survive, you should be happy. Now, give me the first bit of your hand”

A high pitch scream pierced through the silent night echoing in the deserted country around. Nobody was there to hear what was going on in that isolated barn far from everything. His family was too weak, on the verge of starvation, to hear or do something.

The morning after old Pad could see already the result of his sacrifice. His hand was still bleeding but it was easy to hide such a wound when you’re a farmer.


Month after month Pad’s farm grew prosperous. Not only it produced a lot, not only the animals were growing bigger and fatter but many lords around were buying his products.

He tried to use his wealth to help his neighbours and as well everybody who asked for help so very fast he became a kind of saint and saviour.

Nobody knew, not even his family, that every month he was selling a piece of him to a demon.


One day Pad was walking in his field. No medicament was having any effect on his pain and he was growing weaker and sorer by the day. Suddenly he thought to see a figure far away under an apple tree.

He saw him bending till the ground and then after a blink of his eyes he didn’t see him anymore.

Curious to check what he’d just seen he walked till under the tree only to trip on something.

It just looked like a big rock to him but when he took it in his hand he discovered it was weightless. There was also a piece of paper beside the rock. He took it in his hand and muttered “Well wasted time for sure, since I’ve never learned how to read!” Despite saying that, staring at the strings of words he understood, like they were read in his head.

“You’ve done wrong, Patrick, you don’t do deals with demons. You knew what to expect, didn’t you. But you cannot change what is done. However, we have to recognize you didn’t use the gift just for your own sake. You helped whoever came to be helped. We decided you deserve a chance”

As soon as these words stopped chanting in his head he felt the stone becoming heavier and heavier until he had just to drop it and he fell on the ground as well.

When he managed to stand back on his feet he looked around and he thought to be dead.

“Where am I?”

“When, you want to ask!” a voce told him. It sounded like the voice he heard just a few minutes before.


“I brought you here from the past. You’re still in Dublin, Pad, but many years later.”

“Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not. But it won’t take long if you keep doing what you’re doing! So I suggest you to look for a solution to your problems here and since you’ll see wonderful things I’ll suggest you to find a way to get rid of your demons…if you know what I mean!”

Pad was left alone again. He kept looking around him and he couldn’t figure out where he was. He didn’t recognize the place, the street was looking so different. He wanted to know but he didn’t even know where to start.

“Hey you!” a voice said from behind him. He turned again and saw a young girl with short jet black hair and dressed as a man.

“Yes, you…you shouldn’t do deals with demons!” she said “Come with me!”

I’ll leave this here as it was just a glimpse on some potential material. I wonder if you got curious!  I had a clear/unclear idea for this character. I thought to finish bringing him to see today’s Dublin from very up high. But then I thought the subject would fit one of my WIP so I wonder whether I could use old Pad.

Also you’ll notice it’s not dead accurate. As I always said, in order to write something consistent and believable you should research in first place.

This scene you’ve just read is something I thought off the top of my head considering the prompt, but if I’ll decide to introduce it in my book, I’ll have to look for information for sure.

All considered, what do you think?


Let’s observe!

Google search!

I might have mentioned I’m reading a book and I’m preparing to write a review about that. Because I really believe in what is written in there and in the writer who wrote it, I thought I’d do the exercises as well in order to have a full experience and tell you how awesome it is. This is also why, a part from my crunched time situation, it is taking me so long to finish it!

So I’m going to share with you the exercise I’ve done yesterday morning on the train, about the observation. 

I had to observe around me mentioning sounds, smells, people around me and their interactions. 

I don’t know if I made it right or not, but I want to share it with you, my readers, as a tribute for those of you who commute every day! 

Luas. 8:48 a.m. Thursday 6th of August

I just got in and found a seat and couldn’t have been happier for the luck. I have great material for the exercise.

Maybe that’s it! I have to activate the senses to get inputs.

The lulling motion of the train combines with the metallic sound of the trucks beneath me. In the background I hear the registered voice that announces every stop and the music coming muffled from the headphones of the person sitting behind me.

I’m in a place made up of four seats and other four are on my right hand-side.

A guy too big for his seat makes me retire on the edge of mine but I try to observe the surroundings while attempting not to lose my balance.

However, the ones who attract my attention aren’t the three passengers around me.

There is a couple on the further sits on my right hand-side. They wear mismatched, dirty clothes and looked like they had a drink too much or who knows what else.

She’s curled on herself dozing off or looking outside the window. Her eyes are sad. Maybe she didn’t think she will end up like this, on a train so early in the morning thinking about how her life could have been if she did different choices. Who knows what she left behind. A family? A son somewhere? Maybe she wanted to become a doctor, maybe she followed the love of her life who at the moment is curled on one and half seat in front of her and he’s keeping his feet on her lap.

Maybe he promised her the moon or just a distraction in a moment of weakness and now love has become addiction.

They look dirty and tired and they could use a decent meal and a shower.

Although I feel so sorry for them and some part of me is thinking how this people could be helped my attention is attracted by a group of lads.

It must be the day today.

The big guy beside me gets off the train, I regain the balance in my seat and the girl behind me switches to a latino music.

Unfortunately the group I was going to talk about disappears the minute the big guy obscured the line of sight, but I remember something. 

It was three of four of them, face features screwed from the long use of drugs, chatting in between them with those guttural voices and speaking that language that they understand only among each other.

They seemed to be organizing something and I’m pretty sure they were busting themselves already, I saw one of them swallowing a pill a few stops before. 

I hope they didn’t follow the pair I was talking about beforehand. He wasn’t that stable on his legs.

He had really a weak look about him.

It must be the day today.

I stop looking around just a few stops before I reach my destination. A strong smell of tobacco comes from the old lady who came in just now and is sitting besides me. Because of the small distance that is between us is almost unbearable.

I leave you with the muffled sound of drums coming from behind me.

I thought not bad for a 10 minutes slot spent on the Luas while travelling and trying to figure what I was supposed to do. 

I think I might publish something else on this blog, and I think that the review will be unique…I only hope in a positive way!