INTRO:

Hello, there constant listener. I have a special episode ready for you today. They’re all fragments of nightmares from other constant listeners just like you. People who have told me what they see in the dark of night behind closed eyes and are ready for me to tell them to you.

There’s an official name for the study of dreams. It’s a Greek based word Oneirology (On-ier-olo-gee) and it has a wide variation of what the study entails. It’s a more analyzed approach elevated from a general “dream interpretation”. These scientists seek out correlations of dreams and waking knowledge. How the brain functions during dreams as it pertains to memory formation and mental disorders.

You’ve likely heard of REM sleep, also known as rapid eye movement. What’s interesting is that recognizing REM sleep wasn’t observed until the 1950’s. By measuring a body’s response to REM, we’ve learned that the average dream lasts only 5-20 minutes.

Yet, the recesses of our mind sometimes take us back right where we left off in an almost alternate reality that lives solely within us. How 5-20 minutes often experience as a passage of time that can be an hour, a few days, or in some dreams a passage of years before we wake.

I love to dream, and I love to hear where others have travelled in their mind. Come with me as we explore these dream fragments together.

I’m Tasha Wheelhouse, and this is Copper Shock.

BODY:

Part 1: My Patio Door. Nightmare derived from constant Listener: Lani H from Utah.

I lived in Lake City Florida with a beautiful home that had a wooden porch that wrapped around three-fourths of the house. It was trimmed in tan and an off white being the dominant color. Living with three older brothers I had to toughen up quickly, especially when we played games outside. I remember that we had a wonderfully huge yard. It was a jungle to my young eyes. It contained not only a pond but a thick brush of Black Mangrove trees. Only occasionally did the trees give off a ‘bad egg’ smell. It wasn’t always, but we stayed clear of the pond regardless due to the potential of crocodiles, even in neighborhoods like ours. You’d be amazed what sort of wildlife or vermin roam about your suburban world in Florida. (Unless you’re from Florida, then you know exactly what I mean.)

While living at this house I had a recurring nightmare of the porch around our home. The porch was slightly raised with vertical wooden slats around it to keep out animals. A single square wicker door sat near the front porch steps off to the right. The door was just big enough for young me. The dream always started out at night. I’d be standing on our St. Augustine Grass, facing the pond. I was barefoot and hated it. The grass always had an itchy feeling, and I felt vulnerable to any bugs or snakes that could be nearby. The moon above was bright. I saw occasional lightning bugs drift on and off gently between the Mangrove trees that flanked either side of the pond. I’d been here before, I knew what would happen next, as I’d seen this progression many times before.

The fireflies would all stutter out like burnt out lightbulbs until blackness clouded over the space between the mangrove trees. Almost like a viscous black cloud. Labored breathing would pulse from the tree line. A beast. I couldn’t see It but it could see me. It was watching and waiting for me to flinch. I knew as soon as I began to run back to the house I would not make the front door. But the wicker porch door, that was within my reach.

I felt my breath catch preparing myself for the sprint, squishing the gras between my toes. As soon as I turned my back I heard the beast wading through the pond ...