Foggy Dreams-Excerpt

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She entered the world somehow, sometime during Autumn. Thirty-six years later, she learned of the details, told to her in hopes of filling in the gaps. Mom wanted the best life for her; better than what she felt at the time, she could provide her with as a young unwed mother in the 60's. Little did she know, the best part of Angela's life would be their reunion.



Uncertain Foggy Dreams


The tan carpet pile began to get smaller as she rose to her feet almost erect. It grew as she began to lose her balance once again. Finally, she was standing erect though a little wobbly. There were sounds in the background as though to cheer for her.

Lucy ran with two little boys to greet a balding man in an overcoat with deep pockets. He was familiar to her, perhaps even paternal. He would say, "Oh, there could be a mouse in my pocket" as he smiled lovingly, raising his arms to allow the children to pick the candy and such from his pockets.

Two and half years and only a few memories. Strange what we recall. Then there were the dreams. Or were they memories of some movie she seen when too young to verbalize? Perhaps they were stories told around her that confused her.

Looking through the bars, Lucy was happy to see Mommy enter the room. She put her arms out as if to be picked up. Mommy wasn't smiling as she put her fingers to her lips ordering a panicked "SHHHH" as her body shook. Daddy appeared as Mommy backed up. She seemed to shrink into the corner as his back now faced Lucy. Lucy couldn't see past him. Then he turned towards Lucy exposing the view of her Mother lying in a bloody heap on the floor. Lucy knew to shrink and silence despite her young age. Instinct I suppose. He appeared over the bars blocking the light with his head. Darkness.

There were bright round lights that seem to move upward as the motion pushed her downward in a hurry. There were voices. There were beeps of what seemed to be machines and telephones. Lucy just knew there were noises and that she was in yet another environment. There was that final, stationery, hot, bright lamp; quite larger then the moving series of lights she had seen through her eyelids prior. The lamp goes out abruptly creating a cold sleep almost instantly.

"It will take some time to heal" "She may function just fine" "There will be some adjustments needed" "She will need follow up care" "Placement" Placement. Placement. All just voices in the dark.