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 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: October 23, 2021      Views: 22
Prologue 2 3 4 5 

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I have been writing on and off for a while now but something always keeps me completing what I have started. Now that my life is more stable, I can start where I left off,

She is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #97 spot on the rankings.

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Chapter 4 of the book The Strange Tales of Afrika Jones
A bazaar dream
"Nightmare #3" by Coco Lovan

I had the weirdest dream. I was on a beach. The white sand is tinted with the palest blue. At the edge, a black liquid ebbed against the white sand. Its rhythm is slow and hypnotic. The black liquid echoed the black sky above. The stars danced with each crash of the wave.

Next to me on the shoreline was a black wolf. Its fur gleamed in the dimly lit sky. In front of him was a red rose on fire. The fire crept up the rose, the edges turning black with every gust of wind. Its flames frolicked in the wind, growing stronger with each blow. The flames of orange-yellow claimed dominance of the night sky, while the shrank and lost luster. The rose started to bend, unable to handle the flame. I wanted to help so I reached out to grab the rose, but an invisible wall stopped me.

I stared at the black wolf, its royal blue eyes stabbed my heart. Its pearly white fangs shimmered in the stars while its face contorted in anger. The wolf never growled, just glared in outrage. I placed my hand back on my lap. The wolf went back to watching the rose burn. My eyes returned to the rose which was unrecognizable. Its petals are charred by the fire. One petal gracefully spiraled in the white sand. Only a small ember remained to ebb like a wounded heart before it fizzled out. The slain petal sat there until a black washed ashore to claim it.

This repeated several times until there was nothing left but the stem. Now only half the size, it resembled a blacked twig with immature buds. Just as the petals before it, the stem waited for the liquid. It took a few tries but stem eventually joined its tainted brethren. The black wolf rested its head on my lap begging to be petted. I refused but an invisible string guided my hand towards its head. Tears streamed across my face as anxiety festered within me. The wolf sat up and with its invisible strings forced me to wrap my arms around it. The streams of tears dried as my anxiety faded. Its soft bubble gum pink tongue licked my face, its tongue pathing was deliberate and inviting.

We sat there for what felt like hours before it joined the rose in the black sea. When I woke up there was one red petal sitting in the middle of an empty pillow untouched by the flame. I wonder if this was the wolf's doing.

The book continues with Harley and Quinn part 1. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.
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