“The word « Dream » borrows its blazing connotation out of the very close kinship it weaves with vision and imagination. This mercurial word, « Dream », consists of, at least, two luxurious connotations too tempting for any interpretation to resist. The first one is linked to prophets and visionaries and is, consequently, related to inspiration and clairvoyance. The second connotation is connected with a conscious vision towards the Self and the World, a vision that qualifies the dreamer to preview the future on deeply human perspective armed with a clear view of Existence in its ambiguous relationship with Man’s hazy destiny. This second connotation of the word « Dream » sounds closer to the literary field. Contrary to Freud, who regards dream as the guardian of sleep, I deeply believe that dream is the guardian of creativity. ”

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          Only the word «dream» sneaked out of his memory progressing slowly but persistently dribbling all the barriers. He felt it coming along from the unknown depths, taking off the cloudy curtains, floating clearly, struggling for the sole sake of being. His mind, so anxiously, seized it. Only then, he found himself face to face with yesterday’s dream.
          Having seized the thread of the dream, he stretched his limbs out to get rid of the remaining traces of sleep. The dream had such a strong impact on him but he can remember nothing of it right now.
He rubbed his eyes so strongly and surrendered to a wonderful sensation that he would surely remember his dream in full… In his mind’s eye, there emerged the river… Yes, he remembers now that water was dominant in the dream… He traveled with his eyes around the dark room, stretched his feet towards his flip-flops… The river was running swiftly… And then?
          He went into the bath-room… His limbs are getting more and more active… He leaned down on the sink … He turned the tap on …He meditated the water flow and sprayed his face with handfuls of water … He felt the coldness awakening him … What a dream ! It escapes his mind the way water runs through his fingers… However, he should remember the dream … He does not know the reason why he believes that this dream is bringing along some message… There was the river… There was water running… There was also the dominance of one color … He does not remember that color… Then, there were trees … Yes, there were trees stretching their branches high in the sky… There was him running… He cannot forget that…
          He looked at the mirror… His face was pale… He meditated the growing little hairs on his chin that doubled the sad look on his face… He remembered that, while running, he never left his place… Otherwise, why the same scene was turning on and on all along the dream: water, trees…
He got out of the bath-room… He cannot remember the most important thing in the dream… That was a message… Was it a word?… A symbol?… A meaning ?… A flavor? He remembered that he was striving to interpret it while he was dreaming about it and that he turned so reassured of his results that went to sleep again after a light awakening…
          He went into the kitchen…was that a voice, an image or a sensation?... How can he have a real answer?... He got his breakfast ready…The dream shadowed everything…
          « The running was tiring and the river was flowing strongly. I can decide that its colour was crimson ».
          He took a chair… He sipped some tea… All of a sudden, he remembered that he had looked at the sky and that there was a bird that fully captured his attention… Now, he is submerged by joy … He is in the right path since he remembered the bird… He chews a piece of bread… things are getting clearer and clearer… He wished he could grasp the bird with his own hands… So, he carried on running and the bird went on flying… The bird was surprisingly at hand … That may be the reason why he insisted on getting it… He noticed suddenly that the bird was across the river…
          There come the incidents smoothly… He was happy at that …He sipped consecutive doses of his tea … And then? Yes, now he can remember… While trying to interpret the dream, he deeply felt that his grasping the bird would be a sign of good luck while his missing the bird would be, however, a sign of bad luck… He decided not to miss the opportunity… He doubled his running… He was running in his own place… Suddenly, he found himself running on the water surface… He felt an incomparable pleasure… His feet never sink in the water nor do they get wet… While running on the water surface and at the peak of his joy, the bird came along towards him… It was getting nearer and nearer as if offering itself to him… Suddenly, he felt an ambiguous change taking place deep inside him… It was a great surprise for him to see himself flying beside the bird… flying was an irresistible pleasure, the river beneath him was a wonder…
He stretched out on his chair, happy to have come up to this extent of memory… The message of the dream is now quite clear…It is only then that the world seemed to be in his own hands, that a happy event is in the way to be achieved and that all he had to do is just sit and wait.

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Translated by Mohamed Saïd Raïhani

* The translator, Mohamed Saïd Raïhani, is a Moroccan translator, scholar & short-story writer, born on December 23rd 1968 in Ksar El Kébir. He published in Arabic "The Singularity Will " (Semiotic Study on First-names) 2001, "Waiting For the Morning" (Short stories) 2003, "Thus Spoke Santa Lugar-Verde" (Short stories) 2005, "The Season Of Migration to Anywhere" (Short stories) 2006. he is getting ready for printing:"Beyond Writing & Reading " (testimonies) and "Kais & Juliet" (An E-Love Novel).
 

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