The Spot, The Dream

I have written a few short stories, this is my first :) just a nice read and any criticisms are welcome :)

The sky was clear but glowed a brilliant shade of orange which illuminated the vast expanses of wheat, standing at barely three feet tall. A tree, alone, sat still at its roots yet its branches swayed lazily in the breeze synchronised with the yellowish mess which surrounded it. The haze illuminated the tree to give it somewhat significance where it stood intimidating, yet thoroughly pleasant. Perched on a hill it’s view ranged for several miles, but the gain in altitude did not make it unhappily windy. The leaves and branches of the tree stretched, with an exuberant colour of green, away from its base giving it a large amount of shelter not covered by the waves of wheat. The virgin ground was carpeted with a soft green coloured grass which curved with the shape of the hill.

Underneath the tree, sat at its roots, was a boy. Not exactly a boy to be honest as he looked old enough to be 18 or 19. He sat slouched against the tree staring idly into the distance. His short brown hair waved slightly although not with as much magnitude as the wheat or the tree. He wore a muddy white t-shirt, beaten old jeans and brown trainers. His head was resting on a navy hoody, half was graced by the suns presence whilst half hidden behind the seemingly dark shadows. His mind was vacated of anything and everything important to do with him as he let his mind meander and drift. He imagined himself at this very spot with a girl, only a few inches smaller than him, where they both stood in the fading light of the day staring into the setting sun. He’d had this dream many times before, the repetition was extremely creepy. The exact same thing happened.

He leaned against the tree with his eyes shut feeling the warm breeze filter through his hair and his clothes. He would occasionally look down at his watch to see the time, it read the same time every time he looked; 6:34, 6:39, 6:46, 6:54, 7:01. The last time he looked was at 7:32 when he saw her. She would walk with her left arm outstretched, drifting through the wheat along a path which had been formed by Sam’s many visits to the spot. Suddenly though he would wake up for school. At first he thought nothing of it, no one at school looked anything like her. One point he dreaded it being Lucy, who was notorious for having a complaint at everything. The dream came every night for a month before he realised it might mean something.

He knew the spot. He found it four or five years ago and came when he felt like things were too much and he just sat there. Soon Sam found himself visiting every week, then every other day and finally every day. Both mum and dad (well, step-dad) found it very peculiar and once confronted him about where he went. Sam lied through his teeth whenever his parents asked something.

He left several hours later at 8:00 when the sun had almost set and the sky had turned purple. On one side, he saw the sun setting with an orange glow which changed to pink and to purple. On his other, there lay a large village with small spots of lights making it visible in the darkness. The moon shone, but not very brightly. The street lights and houses gave an unnatural yellow glow which hovered closely above the chimneys of houses causing the moon to become more dull whilst eliminating stars altogether. Wandering down the path, Sam started to feel sceptical about what he was doing. The idea of him predicting the future in his dreams was ridiculous, he knew it was impossible to happen and even stupider to think it was possible.

As he stared at his feet, careful where to place them, he wondered if she even existed. Before he realised, his shoulder bumped into what he thought was something. He jumped immediately when he heard a soft ‘Oh!’ come from where his shoulder connected. Sam quickly turned his head to the girl and shouted sorry before quickly snapping his neck back again to have a closer look. Was that..? But before he could answer his own question, the person had vanished somehow.

Hm. Imagine I just read this (that shouldn't be too much of a stretch) and someone else asked me what it was about. There isn't really a beginning, or ending... not much plot.

That said, you did a nice job establishing setting. You made it sound like a lovely place, and I found myself wishing that I were the girl who would get to sit under the tree.

BTW, I'm rather fond of your user name :)

For much of this piece I felt it was a landscape being described to an unsighted person by an artist. You paid so much attention to the detail - and obviously have a keen sense of colour. Applying every line of description like a brush stroke.
Then we get the 'story' for what it's worth - a young boy repeatedly dreaming of a rendezvous with some girl. I'm feeling there should be a little more to this. It's as if you've woken him from his dream and now he's not allowed to go back to it. Hopefully he gets another opportunity and the reader is able to discover the significance of it all.
And if you don't know what it is yourself - ask him and I'm sure he will tell you.

H