...On Poetry and Fiction - Just “One Word” Away ("Carousel"), editorial by Phyllis P. Colucci at Spillwords.com

…On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“Carousel”)

…On Poetry and Fiction

Just “One Word” Away (“Carousel”)

written by: Phyllis P. Colucci



One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word.” Today my one word is “Carousel.”



I was ten and my older sister was fourteen. We were riding on this magnificent Carousel; but not on the huge, lifelike, brilliantly painted horses as most children would do. We chose to sit on the wooden floor in the middle of the Carousel as it went around and around. The music was loud and kept us smiling as we gazed in awe at the many bright lights, sparkling mirrors and vibrant crystal pieces which adorned the top of the Carousel. Everything glowed around us, including the huge horses, as they moved up and down as proud as “show” horses. They had character and personality, and seemed to come alive as they continued to gallop on poles with no one on their saddles. Each was a lone horse with a mysterious spirit that frightened as well as captivated my sister and me.

We huddled together, and watched these brightly colored, stately horses, prance around us with what appeared to be half-smiles on their faces. Some had manes of gold, others were white as snow or dark as the night. We were mesmerized by these magnificent creatures since each one seemed to have their own story to tell. Of course they couldn’t speak, so their stories and secrets would remain theirs forever. Only their half-smiles told tales that fed our imaginations.

As the Carousel picked up a bit of speed, the lights grew brighter and the music louder. We sensed something out of the ordinary was about to happen – and it did! Suddenly, one of these huge fine horses jumped off their pole and came to life! It all happened so fast. It galloped toward my sister and me, as we held each other closer, not knowing what to expect. Without warning, it opened its gigantic salivating mouth. All we could see were its large yellow-tinted teeth. We were frightened. This horse was on a mission! This brilliantly painted horse, which was now alive, became fixated on the gold necklace around my sister’s neck. With its yellow-tinted teeth, it pulled the necklace from her neck and quickly disappeared back onto the pole from whence it came. It went back to its inanimate existence, and joined the rest of the magical parade of horses; riding up and down, down and up, with the necklace hanging from its mouth. Like the devil in disguise, it looked sweet, shy and innocent while it rode the Carousel, as if nothing had happened. I guess its wicked mission was accomplished! Whatever that mission was.

I just stared in shock at what had just transpired. There was no rhyme or reason to what had just happened to my sister. When I looked over at her, she was fast asleep on the wooden floor of the Carousel, as it continued to go around and around, with lights shining and music blaring. I tried desperately to wake her, but she wouldn’t budge. Once that horse pulled the gold necklace from her neck, all signs of life left her body. As I said, I was ten and she was fourteen; and I was a very scared and confused little girl at that moment. All I could do was cry, until I woke up in my own little twin bed, in my own safe and warm bedroom, in my own happy and loving home. I looked over at the twin bed next to me, only to find my sister sleeping soundly and breathing softly… I smiled when I realized it was only a dream, and all was well with my sister and me. She was alive, and I was not scared anymore. We were both back home.

For many years to come, I never spoke about this dream…not to my parents, my sister or my friends. It frightened me up into adulthood because I never understood why I, as a ten year old child, would have such an awful dream like that. I was too young at the time to comprehend its meaning and, even as I grew older, I never understood that dream. There were always questions of “who, what and why”. Whenever I would think about it, I would find a way to bury it way back in a corner of my mind. When the subject of strange dreams became a conversation between me and my adult friends, many years later, it was then that I shared this dream. People found this dream alarming, as did I, since I was that frightened little girl. It wasn’t until I reached the age of thirty-eight and my sister forty-two, that I learned the true meaning of that dream. Now I believe that dream was an omen of what was to come.

…My sister died prematurely at the age of forty-two, from a brain tumor she lived with for almost six years prior. That dream was a message and a vision to a confused and innocent young child, who would later learn her sister’s death on that Carousel would one day become a reality. It took twenty-eight years for me to understand a dream that haunted me for most of my life. That dream was simply fiction and “make-believe”, tucked away for many years, until it became a heart-breaking reality. You see, it was not meant for my sister to live a full life into a ripe old age; and I was mysteriously chosen to receive that horrible message, and that horrible vision, through that horrible dream, many years earlier. That omen was surreal, but it happened.



We need to pay attention to our dreams. Sometimes they are messages and visions sent to us from some higher, supernatural power, that either wants to teach us something, enlighten us about something, or simply warn us of what is to come. My dream turned out to be a warning, an omen about the premature death of my sister; an Omen which turned a Dream into a Nightmare and Fiction into Reality…

Series Navigation<< …On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“Memories”)…On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“If”) >>
This publication is part 53 of 57 in the series Just One Word Away