The Hypnotic Bedtime Story

Chapter 1

 I had chased this feeling for most of my life. The harder I pushed for it the less of it there seemed to be.The paradox was almost humorous. I had finally found peace by learning not to fight for it. This was so simple yet I had spent forty plus years digging for it inside others. I believed if I could just find the right arguments then peace would be bestowed upon me by those I had convinced. Eventually the threads of my thoughts became spaghetti twisted into strange logic I could get no one I cared about follow. I didn't even understand myself any more. I became confused. The system broke down and I surrendered to the simple truth that if you fight for peace the war is never over and there is no reconciliation in arguing. I had retired from the battlefield. The war I had declared upon the hearts and minds of those I loved was finally over.

  I sat on an antique wooden chair resting on a dilapitated front porch, in front of a tiny little rented cabin.  I was enjoying a feeling of satisfaction in the pit of my stomach. A warm, tingling glow that just sits there, quiet, peacful, and still. This wonderful calm feeling wasn't found in the hay and fluff of my own thoughts but on the ground under them. My mind was empty, clear, and perfect as I breathed deeply in through my nose and experienced the night air without the distraction or interruption of my internal mental chatter.

   There once was a time the chatter owned me. It always wanted attention, thought it was too interesting to ignore, and believed if each thought did not get thunk something precious would be denied the universe. I had learned pay attention to this little voice, observe it without interest, see it for what it is, and it had given up and fallen into silence. I was free now to appreciate the wonder of creation without commentary.

 I focused on my hearing and let the creaks, chirps, groans, and buzzes of the insects happen to me. I moved on to sight and was curious how the forms, colors, and textures of the grass and pine trees presented themselves subtly in the moonlit darkness. I smelled dirt, pineneedles, and rotting wood. I felt my back and my behind pressing into the hard wood of the chair and the soft pressure of my feet as they rested flat on the little deck. I shifted my attention and noticed some tension in my hands so I let that go and allowed them to rest somewhat palm up in my lap. Inside my body were aches and pains. By this time of night fatigue had become a factor. This was a good tired feeling earned from a day of getting things done. My cabin and yard were in order and all was as it should be.

 There had been a few times like this before. Times alone without any problems in need of my attention were rare and a source of great unease for me. Once every few years I would find myself standing somewhere ordinary and become frightened at the prospect of having nothing left to do. I would very quickly find myself a new job, project, or problem to divert my attention away from.....what? I didn't know.

 This time I didn't have to do that. I could finally just enjoy my peace without feeling there should be something more interesting or exciting going on.

 The night air was becoming too chilly for my aching body and it was time for my soft, warm, comfortable bed but first I wanted just a few more breaths of the delicious night air to relax myself.

 I closed my eyes and bowed my head, feeling a pleasant pull against the tightness of the muscles in the back of my neck. I breathed deeply and evenly enjoying the sharp aromas. Slowly I tilted my head back and exhaled my last long slow breath past my bowed lips in a silent whistle. Head centered, I opened my eyes and noticed something peculiar that wasn't there a moment ago.

 There was a spot about two feet in front of my face a little darker than the air around it. This spot was about as big as a basket ball and ill defined. At first I wondered if it was there at all or if my eyes were just playing tricks on me. I closed my eyes and opened them. Still there. I did this several times and as I did the spot seemed to grow a little darker each time. Yes, it was there but what was it?

 I reached out to touch it and expected my hands to simply pass through thin air but to my surprise the spot felt quite solid, smooth, hard, and cold much like a bowling ball. My hands dropped back into my lap and resumed their former relaxed posture intentionally.

  Many unusual things have happened in my life, some of them bordering on the unbelievable. I know it is best not to let the eccentricities of shifting realities throw me for a loop but this was a challenge.

 I sighed heavily a little niggled by the situation. For the first time in my life I felt I truly had nothing to chase after and no desire to create a crisis so I could cope and this, this THING, shows up. I decided to keep my own personal peace of mind as my primary goal and just go to bed. That's it. Just go to bed. No need to investigate, explore, find out, solve, analyse, capture, own, or complicate the situation. I would simply go to bed, sleep, and tomorrow this could be one of those things I only talk about at parties after several others have told their ghost stories.

 I stood up and the thing followed me, still two feet in front of my face. I walked very carefully to my front door so as not to bump face first into it but I needn't worry. The thing was very good at maintaining the same two foot distance. I tried to open the door but the thing was in the way. I tried to push the thing out of the way but it would not budge. I moved my head so it wasn't in the way of the door but the thing still blocked my entrance. I was a little lost for what to do's for a moment.

 Then it began to glow blue. The light originated in the centre of the dark spot. It was a little spark or twinkle that grew with irridescent wonder until it was the size of a basketball. I stood  in awe of the molten blue light undulating before me. The old saying "it takes my breath away" came to mind for I was unaware of whether or not I was breathing and didn't really care. I just wanted to stand there, stunned or in a trance, and stare at it. For how long didn't matter for time didn't seem to be relevent any more. Eternity was happening in an instant and the entire universe was being born inside this little blue ball.

 I reached out to it for I wanted to know what it felt like to hold all of creation in the palms of my hands. I wanted to know what it felt like to be God. It seemed out of place I was not hearing angels singing but instead I only heard a mid range electrical buzz.

 As I touched it I was snapped back to reality. It jolted me with a very unpleasant electric shock. My hands felt stuck there for a moment then I was able to jump back a few inches and pull away. I was breathing again, a little huffy after being so rudely yanked from my eternal ecstasy.

 The ball floated across my front porch and down the three little wooden stairs to position itself about four feet above the decorative gravel path added to the front yard to give it some kind of quirky character. My highest and best self told me to just leave it alone and go to bed but I wasn't listening to that anymore and I followed it.

 The path wound this way and that across the front lawn and the ball followed this impractical pattern. At the end of the path was my driveway where my red minnivan had been resting for several days. The driveway curved steeply down to the dirt road that joined up to the two lane highway several hundred yards away. The ball followed the driveway to the dirt road and I followed the ball.

 The ball and myself stopped in the middle of the road for a moment as beautiful blue light faded and a dark spot desended gently to the stony, dry, hard packed, mud. It began to roll towards the highway and as it did it appeared to be more and more solid until it looked just how it felt, like a black bowling ball without finger holes. Of course this was not as terrific as it's blue glowing hypnotic form but it was still interesting just the same as it rolled itself down the road, rummbeling and bouncing off the odd rock and reflecting the bright full moon.

 On both sides of me were cow pastures. The one on the left was empty and in the centre of the one on the right I could just make out about a dozen dark hulking forms bedded down for the night and huddeling together to protect their calves from the coyotes. In this pasture there was a path consisting of two tire tracks made by the ranch owner's pickup. It began at the dirt road and curved through the pasture into the woods on the right side. This lush and dense forest covered the old worn down mountain that made up most of this place unimaginatively named "Smith's Acreage".

The ball hesitated for a second beside the truck path then desided to take this rout. The sagging wooden gate was open for there was a gate further up the dirt road to keep the cows off the highway and they had little ambition to wander.

 The object of my intense interest curved it's way up toward the woods and I seriously considered turning back to my cabin. There were all manner of beasties living in those woods and I would have preferred to leave them undisturbed but the ball was beginning to glow again. Its erie, calm light created a mobile haven for me as we navigated through the tunnel of trees.The orb stopped at a side path, hesitated and decided to take the path. This way was only wide enough for one person to walk along comfortably and the trees seemed to be closing in on me leaving me feeling claustrophobic. I focused on the ball to me peace and sooth the instinctive anxiety from ancient times of knowing people who go into the woods alone at night get eaten.

 There was again a second of hesitation in the ball and to my dismay it was in front of a small rabbit trail. Mesmerized or not, I would not tolerate being wedged into the foliage for very long. I was being scratched, poked, and prickled by the unfriendly pines and would have preferred the soft, safe, warmth of my bed. The decision to turn back was final and in the split second it took for my feet to obey I burst through the thicket and was standing at the back of the pasture.

 This end of the pasture was dominated by a steep hill that seemed oddly out of place amongst older, smoother mountains. It didn't seem to fit. It always appeared  to me as if it had been placed there on purpose.

 The ball was going up the hill. Reluctantly, I followed. If the going were any steeper I would not have made it up on two feet. The stubbly chewed down grass of the pasture was giving way to longer, softer grass for the cows would not graze there. I took this as  bad omen but I trusted the ball. There was something about it that told me I was completely safe and secure.

 Winded and sweating in spite of the chilliness of the air I was grateful to reach the summit where my companion waited patiently for me hovering two feet off of the ground just brushing the tops of the taller grasses. I suveyed the terrain and noticed the stillness. The air did not move. There were no moon or stars anymore. The slow lazy lights going back and forth on the highway should have been clearly visible from this vantage point but all was darkness and still. As if I were in an endless void that contained only myself, a glowing ball, and a top of a hill.

 Crosslegged, on the grass, in front of my new found friend, I enjoyed the calm wonder of it. As I gazed I began to feel very sleepy. My eyelids became very, very heavy and I wanted to go to sleep. A strange numbness encased me as my eyelids slid shut. Some part of me seemed very awake and alert and another part drifted in the soft blackness and went to sleep. I became aware after a time of grey light filtering through my eyelids as dawn broke. This light turned red as the sun warmed my face and I opened my eyes to a new day and a new world where what is real and what is not is no longer so clearly defined.

 Squinting and blinking I looked to my precious to see it gone. The grass below where it once was was yellow, brown, and somewhat burned in a circle representing its size. Across this patch was laid a simple steel rod. This was a little over two feet long, a centimeter in diameter, and quite ordinary looking. I picked it up and it felt stiff and cold, exactly as you would expect an ordinary metal rod to feel.

 The rest of the world took no notice of this strangeness. The cars were busy going back and forth on the highway. The cows were munching grass beside their calves. Soon Mr. Smith would be out and about his business. I did not want to get caught sitting at the top of a hill in the middle of a pasture wearing my pajamas, a jacket, and my favorite old slippers and be put in the position of needing to explain myself. I took my rod in hand, climbed down the hill careful not to lose my balance, and cut across the pasture to where I could meet up with the truck path.

 I was stiff, sore, damp, very tired, and still longing for my bed. My steep driveway added weight to my journey but the warm sun soothing my aching back was wellcome.

 I entered my safe haven. This little space with only enough room for a small kitchen nook, table, love seat, single bed, closet, and small bathroom off to the side was in stark contrast to the larger abode I had left behind but the peace and simplicity of it were needed to heal my wounded nerves. There had been so much upset back home.

 Behind the painfully orange flowered love seat to my left was a large picture window, almost the size of the entire wall, that afforded an excellent view of the greater mountains in the distance. Snow peaked and grand, on any  normal day, they were my morning eye opener but today the worn, tacky red velvet curtains would stay closed. Wearily I placed the rod on the floor beside my single bed, shuffled to my right to the little closet beside it, opened the ill fitting door, and selected a pair of white flannel pajamas hanging amounst several others very much the same.

 The ecstasy of warm, dry flannel on a cold, damp body was a gift from childhood bringing back memories of dry towels, hot chocolate, and mom's hugs. Some things from my childhood I have been able to "get over". Thank god this is not one of them.

 The mattress was a little too firm for my liking so I had placed several inches of foam on top. As I have aged I found I have become more particular about my bed. I prefer white bedding and pajamas and have always been fond of flannel and cotton. These things spoke to me of clean comfort and my bed was a welcoming whisper as I slipped between foam and down all encased in the finest egyptian cotton. I reminded myself to breathe deeply and evenly mimicing the patterns of a sleeping infant as I enjoyed the airy hug of my longed for resting place.

 The aches in my body felt good again as I slipped deeper into a long sound sleep undisturbed by troubling or distracting thoughs about orbs or metal rods or what this all means. These problems could be dealt with another time. The only thing that was important was following this sinking/floating feeling into sweet oblivion.


This Stephen King book is for sale by simply clicking the link. I chose this book because I think it is a great bedtime book. First because it is over 1000 pages so that's lots of entertainment for your dollar and also because of the page turnability of it. I found it not so gripping I couldn't put it down to go to sleep but I was interested enough to look forward to bedtime so I could get back to it. As long as it was, I was still sorry it was over. In my most humble opinion, I think the story is a good match for people who like the Sleep hypnosis bedtime stories.

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