A Dream Away

By Jason Glass and Josephine Bale

When the sun sets, and their eyes close, their lives begin.

 

Tia and Matt live their usual lives, with their families and routines. One day when they fall asleep, they appear in an impossible dream, two strangers with no idea how they got there.

It happens night after night and they are forced to share one house, one dream.

Time passes and they connect in a way  they didn't expect and start to look forward to those dreams.

Then things get complicated as their realities start to blur and their dreams become a bit more challenging.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Glass & Josephine Bale
• Release date: May 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224649341

Book preview

Prologue 

The Echoes’ Warning 

In the twilight hour there was a solemn silence over the Hopi mesa. Young Jonathon Gibbs sat on a woven blanket in his grandfather’s hogan, the traditional cone shaped clay dwelling’s fire casting a warm glow on the earthen walls. His grandfather, a revered Hopi Shaman known as Soyal Angwus, or Winter Crow, stood by the small altar adorned with maize, turquoise, and feathers... a bridge between the ancient ways and the modern world.

Grandfather, Jonathon began, his voice carrying the reverence taught to him since childhood, tell me more about the Dreamwalkers.

The old shaman turned, his eyes reflecting the fire’s dance. Jonathon, my boy, Dreamwalkers walk the path of the Pahana, the lost white brother who will return as a savior. But there are places even we must avoid... the Labyrinth of Echoes is one such place.

Jonathon’s eyes, wide with curiosity, mirrored the stars peeking through the smoke hole above. Why must we avoid it?

Because, child, Winter Crow replied, sitting beside him and taking a small pouch of sacred herbs, the Labyrinth is a snare of memories. It captures Dreamwalkers with visions of the past, trapping them in a maze of what was and what could have been.

He lit the herbs, allowing the smoke to rise and fill the space with its pungent aroma. Promise me, Jonathon, that you will never seek the Labyrinth. It is a place of great power, but also of great danger. It can twist the minds of even the strongest among us.

Jonathon nodded, the weight of his grandfather’s words pressing upon him. I promise, grandfather. But how will I know if I am near it?

You will hear the whispers, the shaman said, his voice now a whisper itself. Echoes of lives long past, calling out to ensnare the unwary. You must shut them out, focus on the here and now. Remember, our duty is to guide, not to dwell.

As night embraced the elder shaman’s home, the shadows seemed to stretch and reach for something unseen. Jonathon felt a chill, a premonition of dangers lurking in the unseen corners of the dream realm.

Thank you, Winter Crow, he said, a newfound resolve firming his voice. I will heed your warning.

The old shaman smiled, a rare expression that softened his stern features. Good. Now, come. It is time for you to learn the ways of the Dreamwalker. Your journey is just beginning, and there is much for you to discover.

1: She Was Standing There

He sat at the desk , the wood cool beneath his palms. The room was both familiar and foreign, a place where reality blurred into something more elusive. Everything was so vivid, but unfinished, undefined.

He felt her before he saw her. It was like a rush of emotions that didn’t belong to him. Unsettled, like someone searching for the correct set of clothes. As he turned in the leather chair to see what it was, the woman across from him held the same uncertainty in her eyes.

How long do we study each other before one of us speaks? Matt wondered.

The woman remained, defying the dream’s logic. She was like a half-formed thought, slipping through his grasp when he focused too intently. But perhaps, if he allowed her to drift freely, she would come closer.

He avoided looking at her directly, watching from the corner of his mind. Searching for clues, tiny shapes, that hinted at her appearance. Fear and anger flickered in her expression.  "How can she feel this, in my dream?"

It seemed as if her eyes were fixed on the large desk he was seated at. As if she was upset with him, for sitting there. He glanced back at the dark reddish wooden desktop and then back at her.

Swiveling away from the desk, Matt crossed the room. Sunlight streamed through glass doors, revealing a wooden patio beyond. It was on the second floor of a cedar cabin, nestled between walls that formed an L shaped embrace. Two sides opened to the sky and the wooded expanse, while the other two were cocooned in safety.

The door slid open, and the breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass.

You can sit there, if you want. he said softly, still standing in the doorway. How did you get here?

She hesitated, weighing trust against caution. Matt decided to give her space, pulling up a chair on the patio. The woman’s gaze remained fixed on him, her grip tight on a book, Two Souls, its cover a faded gray. An image of a woman danced between the edges, half-formed like their connection.

I think it is just us here, he offered, hoping to get a conversation started.

More books materialized, shelves stretching along the walls. Some bore familiar titles, his own creations, while others stood blank-spined, waiting for stories yet unwritten. The woman’s features sharpened: light-brown hair, green eyes catching glints of sunlight, lips poised between a frown and a smile. Matt felt his own mouth curve upward.

HE WAS SMILING. WHY was he smiling?

Tia bit her lip, studying the man before her. He was trying to start a conversation, but she didn't feel like it. 

She knew it was a dream, because he looked slightly blurry, giving her a ghostly vibe. He seemed both real and ethereal, especially now, with the light streaming through the glass doors. But he also felt familiar, but she was sure she didn’t know him.

Really? she asked herself, That's what I need now... a reminder of my failed writing career?

Without realizing it, she tightened her grip on the book she was holding in her hands. Her book, her failed dream. The reason why she wanted to stop writing.

She sensed his curiosity, his unspoken questions. It was as if he read her feelings, giving her the space she needed, stepping outside the room.

She looked at the desk. It was a writing desk, enormous and weighty. She seemed to remember herself behind one like this, probably years ago, chilling in the light... could it actually be the same desk, from her dreams? Was this the same room?

Like I don’t have enough on my hands right now... Now even while I’m sleeping...

Tia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Breathe in, breathe out. It will fade soon, this dream." But for now, she lingered, drawn to the man who smiled as if they shared secrets beyond the waking world.

THE MORNING LIGHT SLICED through the window, a blade of brightness that jabbed at Matt’s temples. He groaned, shielding his eyes with an arm, clutching the pillows, thinking of her, standing there.

He wanted to roll up in the dark blue comforter and go back to sleep and stay with her longer. Her voice, soft and unspoken, whispered promises that defied the waking world. 

But reality had other plans. The house stirred... the dog, the kids, the chaos. His wife’s voice, a morning battle cry, echoed down the hallway. Get up for school... I am not saying it again...

She promises that every day, Matt mused, pushing aside the fog of sleep. Yet here she is, yelling it again.

Minutes remained before he’d be ensnared in the daily routine. Lately, it felt like she owned him... her lists, her demands. He’d meant to escape before she cornered him, but the dream girl had lingered, her silent smile etched into his memory.

He laid there, ignoring the inevitable. Thinking of the girl in the dream. Without a word, she made him smile. Just being close to him. Now she was gone. He imagined going someplace and seeing her, bumping into her. Would she remember him? 

Was she even real? Matt wondered, dragging himself into clothes. A figment of sleep, a whisper of imagination. Yet the desire to see her again tugged at him... an inexplicable pull.

"I hope number two made coffee... If I start with that Keurig, it will ruin me for the rest of the day."

He stumbled toward the kitchen, craving coffee. Number two, his youngest, was probably negotiating with his mom for another unnecessary gadget. If Matt tiptoed, he might secure his own pot of sanity.

The shower hummed from the master bath, signaling her presence. All bets were off now. Shoes on, escape imminent. The dream girl would fade, but her echo lingered... a melody he couldn’t forget.

TIA’S EYES FLUTTERED open, the room still cloaked in pre-dawn shadows. The rhythmic patter of rain against the windowpane played a gentle lullaby, providing a background for the cat’s meowing that was coaxing her from slumber. Of course, he is trying to wake me up; waking my husband would be like waking the dead.

She stretched, her fingers grazing the cool sheets, and glanced toward the window.

Outside, the world wore a March shroud, a monochrome canvas of grays and muted blues. Raindrops clung to the glass, distorting the view of the city beyond. The streets, usually bustling with life, now lay hushed and glistening. The city’s secrets were tucked away beneath umbrellas, whispered between raindrops.

Her cat, a fluffy gray mischief-maker named Loki, sat sentinel on the floor. His wide eyes bore into hers, demanding attention. He meowed, a plaintive sound that echoed through the room.

Come on, baby, it's still dark outside. Are you actually hungry, or are you just making sure that I'm alive? Tia chuckled, she had read someplace that cats think that their owners have died while they are only sleeping. Seemed like a lot of bullsh** to her. How would anyone know what a cat is thinking?

Loki wasn’t letting her off the hook, meowing again. She groaned and sat up, pulling a lavender pajama top from her nightstand and slipping it on over her soft pale skin.

As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the hardwood floor met her bare feet. She padded toward the window, drawn by the melancholy beauty of rain-kissed streets. The city held its breath, waiting for dawn to break the spell. Tia leaned her forehead against the glass, feeling the dampness seep through.

At least that weird dream is over, she murmured to Loki, who blinked up at her as if sharing a secret. Together, they watched the rain... an intimate audience to the quiet drama unfolding outside.

And so, in the gray dawn of an Eastern morning, Tia welcomed the day, her heart attuned to the rhythm of raindrops and the enigmatic musings of a cat.

- Matt’s Dream: A Puzzle Unfolding

THE HOURS SLIPPED AWAY, elusive as the girl from his dream. Matt sat in his cramped workshop, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows on the manuscript before him. But nothing could bring his focus to the story that he started writing before.  It was her fault... the dream girl who haunted his waking thoughts.

His memory of her face, once vivid, now faded like an old photograph left out in the sun. Yet the feeling she’d stirred within him persisted, a strange mix of longing and melancholy. He yearned to return to that dream, to trace the contours of her features, to unravel the mystery of her presence.

Restless, Matt rose from his chair. He rearranged tools, shuffled papers, as if clearing mental clutter. Putting away parts that he had piled up. Like he was clearing away yesterday to make room for the night. Partly hoping something would take hold of his thoughts and get him turned toward working on one of his car projects, mechanical puzzles that required no emotional investment. Something that didn’t require him to use the half of his brain where dreams were made. Anything to distract from the ache of her memory.

He felt lucky he had this space to let this work itself out. There were tasks to complete, obligations to meet. But today, he’d weave a likely story to cover his absence. The girl from the dream deserved that much.

- Tia’s Dream: A Puzzle Unfolding

TIA SAT AT HER WORK desk, staring at the blank email page. Rain tapped insistently against the window, a rhythm that matched her lethargy.

It was truly hard to focus today. She felt too lazy to do anything. The weather didn't help either. Rain. She loved rain, it gave her energy, a charge... Or a migraine and sleepiness.  The latter was the case today. 

She was absolutely sure that she wasn't going to do anything useful at work today.  What was the point of being here? Her inbox overflowed with mundane messages, each one a reminder of life’s monotony. She longed for something... anything... to break the routine, to jolt her out of this stupor.

And then, somewhere in the back of her mind a vivid memory surfaced. Her dream desk, bathed in soft light, and the man seated behind it. It felt strange, remembering it, or him, or both. The details blurred, but the sensation remained... an odd mix of comfort and curiosity. In that dream, she hadn’t suffered migraines or felt the weight of existence. Instead, she’d existed in a bubble of suspended reality.

At least I didn’t have a headache there, Tia mused, her fingers hovering over the mouse, realizing that deep inside she didn't mind being there in the dream... Didn't mind at all. Her life felt heavy recently. Was her brain trying to disconnect, sending her there? What did it mean?  Dreams were enigmas, fragments of forgotten stories.

Dreams... Tia whispered, moving her mouse to wake the screen. The rain persisted outside, a gentle symphony. Maybe, just maybe, she’d find answers in the mundane... a hidden message, a connection waiting to be deciphered.

- Matt’s Dream: A Cabin of Possibilities

MATT FELT LIKE A MERE observer, suspended in a room that echoed with familiarity. The same room as the previous night... the desk, the bookshelf, the chair, and the doors leading to the patio. Yet, something had shifted. The sky outside was a blank canvas, a featureless gray haze that stretched infinitely.

He swayed, trying to reconcile this altered reality. Then, compelled by curiosity, he stood. His hand found the doorknob behind him. 

Strange. I didn’t notice the door before. He muttered, turned the knob.

As it swung open, he stepped onto a short balcony overlooking a spacious living area below. To the left, another door beckoned.

His curiosity now in control, he had no choice but to open the second door. Inside, simplicity reigned. A bedroom with a large bed, covered with a pristine white comforter and pillows, and nightstands adorned with lamps. And there, against the far wall, a small desk and chair.

He let his gaze rest on the modest desk, then shifted back into the room with the big desk. A whimsical idea took hold and began to pull the small desk out onto the balcony and into the first room. He thought about how to position the new desk and decided to slide it over so that both desks would have a view outside. Then he pulled the second chair from the bedroom and sat it behind the new desk.

He stood back and admired it for a moment before asking himself why he was doing this. He shrugged and walked to the tall glass windows and looked out. It was just gray. Like thick fog. No light or dark. Nothing like the forest that had been there before. When she was here. 

He sat down in the chair and turned to look at the bookcase. Now thousands of questions were raining down in his mind. Would she come back? Who was she? How did she get here, inside his dream? 

The whole  thing seemed like a puzzle. He should be exploring this house, that is what he would normally be doing, yet Matt remained transfixed, waiting for her reappearance. The inexplicable pull drew him back to the massive wooden desk... the one that had been there all along.

He glanced at the big wooden desk. He wanted to go through it, look for clues, but now it felt different, as if it belonged to her. It was strange how she looked at it, and him, when he was sitting there. He imagined her eyes on it, studying its intricate carvings. The smaller desk, in contrast, held simplicity... a single drawer with paper clips and notepads. A drab dream, yet it pulsed with significance.

His gaze shifted to the bookcase. Oddly, it had materialized only after encountering her.

Puzzles, he murmured. Everything is a puzzle. I think I need her to solve them. He took a few steps over to the books and began moving them, looking at their blank covers and opening them to empty pages. One after another.  Each book, a different color, yet identical in emptiness.Perhaps she held the missing pieces... the keys to unraveling this dream. He moved the books, rearranged them, seeking patterns, hidden messages. But what was the ultimate solution?

Puzzles...

He sat the last book down and walking across the balcony, Matt descended the open... back stairs. The contemporary space below... bare, almost unlived-in... beckoned. It was a canvas awaiting their joint creation, a place where dreams and reality blurred. Soon, he sensed, they would depend on each other for more than adding colors to this dream.

First things first, Matt mused, drawn to the refrigerator. The main door revealed nothing but light... an odd emptiness. But the freezer held a surprise: ice cream. Pints upon pints, as if someone had stocked it for a midnight craving.

Who gets hungry in a dream? he chuckled, perplexed by the absurdity of it all. The flavors remained elusive, teasing his senses. With a shrug, he pushed the freezer shut. Dreams, after all, played by their own rules.

Next, he explored the cabinets. His expectations were low, yet there it was... a coffee maker and a large bag of rich roasted coffee. He smiled to himself. I don’t care if it is only a dream, Matt declared. I’m making coffee.

He found a scoop, filled the machine’s container, and added water. The gurgling sound seemed real, and the rich scent promised comfort. The aroma of freshly ground beans filled his senses. 

As the coffee brewed, he wandered the room, trailing his fingers over the sectional furniture’s thickly woven fabrics. Even the lampshades were coordinated. This was the cabin he could only dream of. His life was chaos. No sooner could he add a room then someone would be breaking down a door in another part of the house. Everything seemed that way.  This was the cabin he’d always imagined... a sanctuary untouched by chaos.

The fireplace stood against the wall, its flat stones rising vertically. A blank canvas, waiting for life to unfold.  In this dream, nothing required fixing or moving. It was a magazine spread. A model of a life you just dreamed of.

Back at the coffee maker, he poured two cups... one for himself, another just in case. The fridge beckoned again, and he retrieved a small bottle of cream from the shelf that was empty just moments

Reviews for A Dream Away

[zeppfrog · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This one keeps you reading, and so many surprises. Sequel? More please, you two. Love these characters