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A young woman is plagued by prophetic dreams.

Everything she was she'd inherited from someone else. Her mother's nose, her grandmother's high cheek bones, and further up the line, someone had passed down lips that curved lopsided when she smiled. 

Her eyes and temper she got from her father. It's possible the dreams came from him too, just another hand-me-down trait like the rest, but maybe not. She couldn't say. All she knew was that he rarely slept and often seemed more like a live grenade than a person. 

It wasn't until after he'd left that she wondered if they'd shared the curse of prophecy, dreaming of how people would die. But was it prophecy? Did she dream of future deaths or did people die because she dreamed? With thoughts like those, she understood why her father didn't sleep, especially after visions of her own death began. 

She often saw herself running toward waves that crashed against a rocky shore and no matter how she willed herself, she couldn't stop. She always let the waves take her, churn her, and pull her out to sea where she would never pass on her traits. And every time, she heard her father's parting words, "It's for the best."


Submitted: February 03, 2017

© Copyright 2022 Leigh Bailey. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



Thought provoking, drew me in, well written.

Thu, February 16th, 2017 7:34am


Thank you!

Thu, February 16th, 2017 6:39am


This is really short which makes it all the better because it's really gripping. I think you've had such a clever idea for this. I liked the way it started quite simply, talking about the physical traits and then introduced these dreams which brought a whole new tone to it. The end is really intriguing.

Tue, February 21st, 2017 12:48pm


Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it.

Tue, February 21st, 2017 7:09am

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