At the Edge of Dreams - Episode 1

Is the vision of a statuesque naked girl real or is Kate dreaming

At the Edge of Dreams tells the story of Kate. Hiding out in a remote cottage in Yorkshire she finds herself losing her grip on reality. Is what she is experiencing a dream state or an alternative reality where her fantasies come to life?

Read the Prologue and this episode free. The remainder of this book length serial will be available to paid subscribers.

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Episode 1

The next day Kate paced the little cottage that was going to be her hideaway for the next few days. The air was humid and the sun seemed intent on frying her as soon as she stepped outside. Despite wearing a thin cream dress that plunged in a wide-open vee between her breasts sweat still ran off her in small rivulets. She looked down and watched a silver bead trickle down her cleavage.

She had made sure the curves of her body had stayed toned with frequent visits to the gym as the years clicked past into her thirties but the two pillows of her breasts where the only part of her body she actively disliked. Still firm enough to allow her to wear no bra in hot weather, they were slowly softening and losing their battle with gravity. At least the delicate outline of her nipples pressed against the thin material of the dress still pointed the way ahead and not downward.

“Still, at least you’re useful,” she said as she lifted the two globes gently with her palms.

That was true; men seemed obsessed with her cleavage. A low-cut dress, a quick flash of her stocking-clad legs or a flirtatious glance could throw even the strongest businessmen off guard whilst a deal was concluded in her favour. Not that she was averse to going further if the fancy took her. The only problem, or maybe it was an asset, was that her nipples betrayed any arousal by springing into life, something they did frequently. Kate had to admit that she liked sex,

She sat down at the large, heavy, oak dining table that filled nearly half of the room, its grained wooden surface now nearly black with the patina age, and opened her laptop. The boss might be away but that did not mean she was not going to keep an eye on what was going on.

The satellite broadband was annoyingly slow and the dream floated into her mind again as she waited. The ties, how could she dream of bondage? She had done some pretty kinky things but she was successful, queen of her empire. She was the boss and knew all about how to survive in a male-dominated world. She used men and then cast them aside. If anyone was going to do the tying up it was her.

She slammed the laptop closed and stood up to look out of the window. The old glass seemed to make her dust covered black Porsche ripple in the heat. It was facing back down the lane almost as if, annoyed at being forced to bounce off-road up the rough track, it had sulkily turned its back on her.

“You’ll not be the first,” Kate said to the car.

Behind the Porche the purple heather faded into green, so dark that it almost appeared black. In places, longer patches of dry corn yellow grass appeared like tufts of hair. A lone, windblown tree stood on the summit of the hill in front of the cottage as if standing guard, watching for anyone who approached up the far slope. To her right, the lane her car had bounced along ran down to a small brook where a plain timber bridge, almost hidden by a dark, ancient wood that filled the valley floor, provided a crossing.

Sheltered from the wind by the hills, fed with water by the stream and unmolested by human intervention the trees had grown tall and strong. The cottage stood about halfway up the valley side so she looked almost directly into the mosaic of greens of the trees canopies, through gaps she could see thick branches that extended like giant fingers.

On the other side of the bridge, the track meandered through the wood before climbing lazily up the other side of the valley to join a lane over the crest of the next hill. This in turn descended several miles to a small village that was the nearest civilisation.

She had filled the fridge in the cottage’s small kitchen and left the other groceries she had brought in their boxes on the plastic covered worktops. There was no freezer and this was not a land of takeaway deliveries and fancy restaurants. It seemed good food and sex were two passions she would have to do without.

The heat of the day began to fade a little as evening approached. She decided that a walk as far as the wood might cool her frustration and help her to stop fidgeting over the memory of that damned dream.

The air felt heavy and humid on her skin as she strolled down the lane to the edge of the trees and contemplated the cool, dark, interior of the wood. It looked as if it had stood there, brooding and silent forever. The gnarled trunks of the three-hundred-year-old oaks rose up to great arching canopies of branches that mixed with those of other trees to meet overhead like the vaulted roof of a cathedral. Where patches of dappled sunlight penetrated to the ground the woodland floor was green with grasses and ferns. Here and there large boulders cloaked in the browns and greens of mosses lay amongst the trees whilst fallen giants created jagged horizontal lines between their still thriving neighbours.

At the edge of the wood where there was more light the undergrowth between the trunks was a chaos of intertwined spiky brambles their stems looping around each other like barbed wire as if determined to bar the path of all but the bravest into the tranquil interior.

Kate gasped. Deep in amongst the trees and spotlit by a shaft of sunlight stood a tall, elegant woman. Her back was turned to Kate and long blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulders to her waist like a sparkling waterfall. Was she naked? Kate blinked. No, an almost transparent, silvery, garment billowed around the curves of her body as if caught by a non-existent breeze. One moment it seemed to completely surround her like a mist and the next it parted to reveal long elegant limbs. Slowly the apparition turned towards Kate and smiled.

Kate was transfixed then, as if to break the spell, a blackbird flew screeching across the track startling her and catching her attention for a second. When she looked back the vision had vanished.

“Christ,” she said out loud, “I’m seeing faeries.”

Without thinking she started into the wood towards the patch of sunlight. The barrier of thick undergrowth tore at her thin dress and scratched her legs but once she was past the outer wall progress became a little easier. She parted low brambles and trod carefully to avoid patches of nettles. When she looked up the patch of sunlight where she was sure the woman had been seemed to have advanced in front of her like the end of a rainbow.

“This is stupid,” she said out loud. She looked around as if to retrace her steps and caught a glimpse of the figure again between two holly trees. She was standing facing her in the centre of a small ruin, her arms and face raised Venus like to the sun as if basking in the last of the dappled light that filtered through the overhanging trees.

Moss and lichen covered the rough stones of the broken-down walls around her as if the wood was slowly reclaiming them and making it almost impossible to tell where the greenery ended and the ruin began. At the furthest end, the grey stones reached up like the forefingers of two ancient hands brought to a point in an archway that framed the statuesque girl.

Kate stared at the vision, her mouth silently open. The strange garment flowed around the girl's body revealing flashes of creamy white skin as smooth as alabaster. The misty material parted for a second flowing over the curves of small, rounded, breasts surmounted by the delicate, rose-pink, points that stood out proudly with the firmness of youth. The curves of her body narrowed to a slender waist before sweeping over her hips to blend into long graceful legs. The whole effect reminded Kate of a Pre-Raphaelite painting.

Cautiously she tried to edge closer, but to move quietly, she had to look down to see where she put her feet. When she looked up again the woman had vanished. Kate cursed under her breath and blundered forward, ignoring the holly leaves and a bramble’s thorns that tore at her legs. When she reached the spot where the girl had stood she looked around. The wood was silent and empty.

At the Edge of Dreams - Episode 2

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