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    MozLover21
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

You Don’t See Me - 7. Chapter 7

 

“When you’re dreaming about cats, you know it’s time to pick up the phone and dial the therapist’s number.”

 

Patrick

Patrick awoke from a strange dream to find himself in bed, alone. The room—no, the entire house felt like a living entity, and Patrick felt tiny cradled in its midst. Ford’s side of the bed was empty, which was strange because he had returned home that day. Was he so bold as to leave in the middle of the night now for one of his flings? Patrick wouldn’t put it past him. After all, an adrenaline junkie would need to keep upping the danger levels. Maybe cheating in Miami was no longer satisfactory. Maybe soon he would be cheating right in Patrick’s bed.

He released the breath of air he realized he was holding in, then tried to shake the negative thoughts away. He had dreamt that Silk had caught a dream. But Silk wasn’t her name, and this wasn’t reality. It was some alternate universe, but she had caught onto to it—to its tail end, just as it was slipping by. And now she was holding it, touching it—a real life dream. Then, when she awoke from her cat nap, she could still taste the dream in her mouth. It tasted sweet, like strawberries mashed with sugar and whipped cream. She carnivorously devoured the dream. And then—poof—it was gone. And with it, Patrick awoke. The surreal nature of the dream disoriented him. He blinked a few times, then wondered what type of loser actually dreams about his cat. What was the meaning of it all?

After the incident happened, it was all Patrick dreamt about for months. Like a recurring nightmare. A video in his head, stuck on loop. “Loop”, the word reminded him of the screenplay sitting in the trash downstairs. The screenplay, his marriage, his mother, and now the dream. Life felt like it was closing in on him with a bizarre sequence of events that he couldn’t fully understand. It seemed that maybe he was looking too close, unable to see the entire picture. But for some reason, the dream with Silk was very troubling to him.

He grabbed the laptop laying by the side of the bed, and opened up a Google search. How could he phrase this without sounding insane. He typed in, “Dream Interpretation” then “cat”. Of course there were multiple meanings, but one of them was “searching for independence” while another one suggested the cat could represent a female in his life, while yet another one said the dream was related to the idea of “survival”. Patrick crawled out of bed and tip toed downstairs for a glass of water to clear his head. Shockingly, he noticed that his husband wasn’t out sleeping with some secret lover. No, Ford was on his laptop at the grand living room table.

“What are you doing sweetheart?” he asked upon seeing Patrick.

“Getting some water, I had a strange dream.” Ford quickly closed the laptop, got up and walked over to him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d do some work,” he said and grabbed the glass before Patrick could get it, then poured water into it. “My poor love, what did you dream about?” he asked.

“Silk,” Patrick replied, taking an embarrassed sip. Both men glanced over to the window perch, where Silk was sprawled out without any notion that someone had been dreaming about her. Meanwhile Satin woke up from her spot on the couch and pattered over to her food bowl for a late night snack.

“You think it’s an omen, like maybe she’s getting sick?” Ford asked, still looking at Silk.

“Don’t say that!” Patrick replied in a loud whisper. The last thing he could handle was one of the cats getting sick.

“Well, it’s strange that you’d be dreaming about her. That’s all,” Ford replied, apologetically.

“I looked it up, it says something about needing independence,” Patrick replied absentmindedly, before he could catch himself. But he realized his mistake almost immediately, as Ford’s body became rigid.

“Independence?” he asked, his voice suddenly icy.

“It was just a stupid dream,” Patrick muttered, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Something you want to tell me?” Ford asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Search for independence? Did you…meet someone else?” The question was so hypocritical Patrick almost laughed out loud. He stood there in stunned silence for a second.

“Did I…meet someone else? Are you serious?”

“Very serious. Since when are you dreaming about being independent? Aren’t we happy?”

“I don’t know. Are we, are you happy? Did YOU meet someone else?” Patrick asked with more anger than he intended. Ford narrowed his eyes and studied Patrick’s face with the intensity of a paleontologist. Slowly, he relaxed.

“This is silly, let’s not do this,” he said, then rubbed Patrick’s naked shoulder, evading the question altogether.

“Do you still love me?” Patrick managed to ask.

“Of course I do. I’ll always love you,” Ford replied, then kissed him on the lips. Patrick had missed those lips, he had missed them so much. He was weak. All he wanted was to make this man happy.

“Good, because I love you so much,” he replied and kissed him more deeply.

“You do?” Ford asked, gently biting into his neck.

“Yes, so much,” he replied, and the two of them clumsily made love on the staircase. After Ford went back to sleep, Patrick noted the encounter in his notebook. They were still having regular sex. That was strange to Patrick. He couldn’t understand how Ford could keep up with it all. And most of all, he couldn’t understand why he would allow Ford to treat him this way.

He snuck back downstairs and sat on the couch, conflicted. He didn’t want to go to sleep, the dream had left him feeling strange. He decided to dial Eloise. If anyone would know something about dream interpretation, it would be his mother.

“Patrick,” she answered the phone, sounding half asleep, “Patrick, is everything alright?”

“Hey mom,” he replied. “Sorry to wake you. Listen, what do you know about dreams?”

“Patrick, it’s 3am,” she replied.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late,” he lied. “This is important. Dreams, do you know anything about dreams?”

“Have you lost your mind?” she asked, and he heard his father’s grumble in the background. “Are you having some sort of manic episode? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“What? No, no. Dream meaning, dream interpretation, that stuff,” he replied, wondering if he really sounded as crazy as she made him out to be.

“Jesus,” she replied, sounding more awake now. He could hear her feet pattering down the hallway, probably heading into the kitchen. “Well, what did you dream about?”

“Silk, I dreamt that she caught a dream. It’s hard to explain really. Like catching a rat, but it was a dream instead. Like a dream within a dream. But, it was so vivid.” There was a long silence on the other end. He heard the sound of ice cubes hitting glass.

“Patrick, when you’re dreaming about cats, you know it’s time to pick up the phone and dial the therapist’s number,” Eloise replied without an ounce of compassion. It was a mistake calling her and asking about this.

“So you haven’t got a clue what it could mean?”

“It was a dream, does it matter? More importantly, how’s your diet going?” she asked.

“I’m not on a diet, mother,” he replied, growing frustrated with her tone.

“Well, you should be. For your health, of course.”

“Of course. Not because you don’t want to have an unsightly son,” he replied sarcastically.

“Don’t be absurd,” she replied. “When did you become so difficult. You used to be the easy child,” she mused, more to herself than to him.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, then hung up. He grabbed a chocolate candy from the bowl on the kitchen island, and as he raised the lid of the trashcan to throw away the wrapper, he noticed the screenplay staring back at him. He pulled it out. “The Loop.” What did it mean? The title didn’t make sense with the content of the screenplay. A loop typically meant a curve that crossed itself. Or an end that was connected to a beginning.

Suddenly his phone lit up. He almost ignored it, thinking it was Eloise calling him back. But it was a message from his PI asking Patrick to call him when possible. He dialed the number right away.

“I’ve got some news. I think I finally figured out who our dark-haired suspect is,” the voice on the other end said, and Patrick’s heart skipped a beat. He knew this was an important moment for some reason, but he had yet to figure out why.

Copyright © 2021 MozLover21; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Patrick is not in a good state of mind it seems,  dreaming about Silk, arguing with Ford and then ringing his mother at 3am. The only positive for Patrick in all this was the sex with Ford after the argument.

Hopefully the PI has information that will help him put his mind to rest.

Edited by chris191070
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I realize we are still collecting clues this early in the story, rather than discovering answers, but you keeping us on our toes!  I have so many pieces of the puzzle floating around in my head already and now I have the surreal dream.  Looking forward to reading more of the script and hearing from the P.I.

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I'm still not impressed with either Patrick or Ford or the mother...If they were to make a movie of their lives, it should be entitled "Circling The Drain" or "Honey, I'm Flushing Our Lives"!!!  Completely apathetic, unengaging, redeeming, and uninspiring are the nicest things I can say about them.

Congrats to the author for getting me to engage so deeply in this story. Not that I have any strong feelings either way!

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30 minutes ago, drsawzall said:

I'm still not impressed with either Patrick or Ford or the mother...If they were to make a movie of their lives, it should be entitled "Circling The Drain" or "Honey, I'm Flushing Our Lives"!!!  Completely apathetic, unengaging, redeeming, and uninspiring are the nicest things I can say about them.

Congrats to the author for getting me to engage so deeply in this story. Not that I have any strong feelings either way!

I'm not sure is this is a compliment or an insult 😂  but thank you either way, I appreciate you reading and sticking with the story.

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6 minutes ago, Danners said:

Considering dreams are rarely literal, born of the subconscious to help us process our lives, I'd wager it's about giving up his dream life -- you know, the "perfect" marriage, the house in the hills, Ford's money -- in order to recapture his independence. Right now his very essence is tied to Ford. He's locked in a gilded cage and the only way to get the key is over Ford's dead body . . . metaphorically. (Or literally if he graduates from eye drops to mixing castor seeds in Ford's coffee beans before grinding.)

Another interpretation is that one person is holding his dream hostage. Could be Eloise with her cold indifference. Could be Ford keeping Patrick alone in that house while he's off cheating with every Tom, Dick, and hairy asshole. Silk is the less social of the two cats, the loner, and so could represent one such human -- the black haired man whose identity Patrick has been obsessed with since learning about him.

As for "The Loop" -- well, I first saw it as a noose because the marriage in that screenplay is dying, as is Patrick's and Ford's. Either the spouse who was cheated on as just enough information to hang himself (with the adulterer slowly nudging them over the edge) or the adulterer's actions have grown bold and brazen enough that he will figuratively hang himself, leaving him at the mercy of his partner.

After more consideration, I think it's an actual loop, a circle, a closed circuit. The couple in the screenplay, as well as Patrick and Ford, are going through the motions, replaying the same series of events over and over and over again -- stuck in a loop -- until someone or something breaks their cycle. The writer of the screenplay seems to indicate this is a third party and my impression is it's one of the adulterer's obsessed lovers. Considering the writer used a quote from Ford in the text, it could be a declaration of his intent: he'll be the one to break the cycle of cruel deception, one way or another.

You've given us a lot to think about, Moz. It's like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that can fit together any number of ways to complete a different picture each time and each one is as viable as the last.

After what I can only describe as an atrocious day, your comment has really put a smile on my face. The level of thought and in-depth examination is truly remarkable and always makes me re-examine my own ideas and look at the story in a variety of different ways. Thank you for all your effort 🙏🏼

From my point of view, "The Loop" definitely has more than one meaning within the story. I don't want to reveal too much, but certainly one of them is the noose Ford metaphorically placed on the neck of the marriage when he started cheating. Another interpretation has to do with something that's about to be revealed in regards to Michael, and his relationship to one of the key characters. Your circle interpretation is also spot on, with the characters all being stuck in a loop.

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Another cliffie?

If my child called at 3 in the morning asking about a dream, I probably would tell them to get counselling or see a psychiatrist and hang up.

I'm interested in what Ford was doing on his laptop which he closed so quickly.

Ford does seem insatiable.

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14 minutes ago, CincyKris said:

Just had a thought reading Danners' comment -- could Ford be the author?

That's a great theory, but Ford is not the author. He's too busy having affairs and being poisoned by his husband to write 😂

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6 minutes ago, Daddydavek said:

I'm interested in what Ford was doing on his laptop which he closed so quickly.

 

We have to get into Ford's secret life soon. Everyone's already had their say...I think it's only fair Ford gets his chapter too.

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2 minutes ago, MozLover21 said:

We have to get into Ford's secret life soon. Everyone's already had their say...I think it's only fair Ford gets his chapter too.

Please use protection -- for us.

tap GIF

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10 hours ago, MozLover21 said:

I'm not sure is this is a compliment or an insult 😂  but thank you either way, I appreciate you reading and sticking with the story.

Not to worry, it wasn't meant as an insult, I appreciate you have taken the time to craft this tale, one that engenders such a strong reaction(s) from me!

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