The Dream

When Jake opened his eyes it was gone. He knew it had been there just a moment ago, but now all trace of the dream had vanished from his memory. He climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs to start the day. If only he could remember a few seconds from the story that had been unravelling in his sleep. It had left him feeling as though he had missed something, as though there had been some sort of revelation revealed in its telling. As the day wore on he became increasingly agitated. Now he was certain there had been something really special about this particular dream. If only he could remember what it was.

Chapter 1

She opens her eyes with the usual reluctance on hearing her name shouted up the stairway. Some query about papers connected with work. No reference to the day just beginning and the potential for joy it could bring, or even a notion that there once may have been some affection between that voice and her own. She answers with the same tone of reluctance, thinking that once their conversations were littered with reference to political leaders and poets, sometimes turning in a flash to raised voices and excited arguments. Now their arguments were purely of a domestic nature.

Rachel where are those papers I brought home last night?

In the desk where you left them.

Was this really where all those dreams had brought her? Struggling to force herself out of their bed not because he was drawing her back into it, but because what lay ahead held no attraction for her.

He has left the house now, gone to his other life of which she knows nothing. Only that some days are worse than others and that some days are longer than others.

Staying home

Have now been a full-time mum officially for over four months. Originally I left my paid work with the intention of taking up some freelance work here and there and writing from home - but with a two year old running around the house motivation and free time are increasingly difficult to find. Of course you might say 'but you're writing this aren't you?' but really it's not the same as calling up several people to beg them for a few scraps of paid work.
Motivation will eventually come in the form of bills I expect but for the moment there's still some redundancy money in the bank and it just doesn't seem all that pressing. I have to say I really do not miss the office envioronment, but maybe I do miss the opportunity to do something completely removed from domestic life or even dare I say it slightly more intellectually challenging than teaching the numbers one to ten and the various other challenges of keeping a youngster amused.