Dream Catcher

In today's story, Dream Catcher, Harold shows Molly how to catch and combine wisps of dreams

Today's prompt immediately made me think of an entity that could give dreams to people, though it took a different turn when I started writing. If you have a prompt suggestion, please let me know!

More about Susan Quilty

Susan Quilty mainly writes novels, including two standalone novels and her YA series: The Psychic Traveler Society.  Susan's short stories for Freely Written are created during quick writing breaks and shared as a way to let go of perfection and encourage writing for fun.

Website:  SusanQuilty.com
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Transcript

Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 149 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:

Welcome to Freely Written, where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction. 

[Light piano music]

Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty, and today’s prompt is Dream Catcher. 

To be honest, I don’t remember what inspired this prompt. I’ve been keeping a list of words and phrases that catch my attention, and this was the next on my list. I don’t always go to that list for writing prompts. My first choice is to use prompts suggested by friends and listeners. 

If you have a prompt suggestion, please let me know. You can contact me through my website, SusanQuilty.com, or through my socials, which are listed on my website and in the show notes. You can also visit my website to learn more about my novels and other books. 

While I enjoy writing these quick little stories, my novels are my true passion, and I would love for you to check them out. They are contemporary fiction, grounded in reality but often with sci-fi, fantasy, or psychological twists. 

Now, back to today’s story… It was created with my usual Freely Written process, where I sit down with the prompt and start writing whatever might come to mind, with no planning and very little editing. 

Here’s where that led today:

Dream Catcher

Harold had been doing his job for a hundred years when Molly became his assistant. He was rather set in his ways and, frankly, wasn’t convinced that he needed an assistant. Yes, the pace had been steadily increasing. And, yes, keeping up had begun to feel a bit hectic. But… still… an assistant? 

Harold tried not to take Molly’s assignment as a personal slight. After all, the Old One had said Harold was doing a good job. They’d been quite clear that it was less about Harold needing help and more about Molly wanting the assignment. 

That was understandable. Harold loved his job and could see why others would want to be involved. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more Harold wondered why he hadn’t had others clamoring to be his assistant before. Or maybe they had, and Molly was the first the Old One had accepted. They had high standards; everyone knew that. 

Molly arrived on a Tuesday. The day didn’t matter to most dream catchers, but Harold considered the details. He worked one of the largest and most productive dream fields, turning mere wisps into mature, actionable ideas. A little here, a little there. It was an art, really. The way he caught and combined, gently melding the slightest dream fragments into something more.

When Molly arrived, Harold was pleased with her appearance. She had bright eyes and a sturdy build. Signs of intelligence and hard work in Harold’s estimation. He picked up ideas like that—after a hundred years of wrangling human dreams. 

Molly took no particular estimation of Harold on sight. He was nearly her height, had blue eyes, and white hair. Details she would use to recognize him, not to guess at his character. 

“So, this is your dream field,” Molly stated as she scanned the sweeping expanse. 

“This is my dream field,” Harold agreed, crossing his arms over his proud chest. 

All around them, wisps shimmered and floated by. Most were very small, easily slipping through the woven nets that filled the field. Others were just large enough to be caught by the nets’ gossamer threads, and an occasional few were so large that they tested the restraints, sending ripples across the threads as they vibrated with residual momentum. 

“These are our priorities,” Harold told Molly, seeing a large wisp drifting toward one of the closest nets. “They come in with more energy, sometimes shaking the smaller wisps loose. And we don’t want to lose those little beauties.”

“The smaller ones?” Molly clarified. “But aren’t the larger dreams more valuable?”

“Eh,” Harold answered uneasily as he caught the large wisp in his hands, just before it touched the net. He studied the softly glowing puff with a slight frown. 

“No good?” Molly asked uncertainly. In her studies, Molly had learned that large dream wisps were more mature, making them better candidates for promising ideas. 

“It’s not bad,” Harold hedged before holding it toward Molly. “But it’s very light in many places. Heavy in others. Not well-formed, despite its size.”

“I see.” Molly’s studies had mentioned the composition of dream wisps, but without explaining what composition was most desirable. 

“It’ll go back,” Harold continued, “because of its size. And it has a chance, though a rather risky one.”

They walked along the nets, surveying the dreams that had been caught. Harold moved farther ahead, pausing to peer at the nets from various angles. Molly gave him space, trying to discern his valuations. 

“Ah, here,” Harold called happily. “Come see!” 

Molly stepped close, stooping to align their vision as she followed his pointing finger. 

“Do you see those blue wisps? In adjacent nets? See how they have the same hue and undulating shape?” 

He moved toward the wisps, gently putting one, then the other, into a dream cradle—a wide-mouthed glass jar that dangled from a metal handle. 

Holding the jar aloft, they watched as the wisps curled around each other, beginning to blend at their edges. As they softened into each other, Molly could see how neatly they layered. 

“It’s about matching wisps then?” She asked, eager to learn from Harold. 

“Not entirely,” Harold answered absently. His eyes were roving the nets, looking for something specific. 

Molly tried to follow his gaze, searching out more blue when Harold’s sudden “Aha!” nearly startled her off her feet. He hurried down the line, jar in hand, and Molly in quick pursuit.

“Do you see?” Harold asked when they came to a stop. His face beamed as he gestured toward a net, but Molly didn’t see a speck of blue that matched their previously caught wisps. 

“There’s no blue…” she said tentatively. 

“True,” Harold encouraged. “But what stands out to you? Don’t think. Just look and feel. What feels like the right match to our growing idea?”

Molly bit her lip as she scanned the net more slowly. Her eyes kept returning to a pale green wisp. One that was thinner and flatter than the others. More like an undulating ribbon. 

“That one?” Her voice trembled with uncertainty, but Harold beamed brightly. 

“My dear, you are a natural!” Harold lifted the wisp with care and released it into the jar. Without hesitation, the green wisp threaded between the pair of blue, spreading into the gaps as each wisp curled into a tighter, glowing orb. 

“But why?” Molly asked, fascinated by the wisps’ combined beauty. 

“The shimmer,” Harold explained. “The green wisp was a different hue and shape, but they shimmered at the same frequency. You often need a bit of difference with a similarity to make a perfect match.”

“Is it ready then?” Molly studied the shimmering new idea that had formed in the jar. 

“Yes,” Harold said after consideration. “I think it is. That’s a judgment, of course. We could hold it longer, try to fatten it up some more, but that doesn’t always work. The idea needs to be just enough for a human to do the rest of the work. Humans are good at that, taking lean ideas and weaving them into something bigger.”

They walked to the idea chute, and Harold offered Molly the jar. She was nervous but accepted the honor, tipping the jar over the chute until the idea tumbled out and floated away. 

“That’s it then,” Molly said with a sense of wonder. “We catch the wispy dreams of sleeping humans, pair them up, and send them back as ideas for a waking human to catch.”

“That’s the job,” Harold agreed. “Our bit of magic, our small part in bringing it all together.” 

Molly frowned in thought. “But what is the all? What is being brought together?”

Harold smiled kindly. “That’s not for us to know. The Old One has their plans. We dreamcatchers merely play our parts.”

They looked out over their field of nets and quietly went back to work. 

The End 

Thanks for listening. When I sat down with this prompt, I imagined some otherworldly beings that caught dreams from thin air and sent them down to entertain sleeping humans. But as I started writing more, the idea shifted, and I like where it landed. 

If you enjoyed this story, please share it with your friends. Freely Written is a fun pet project, and I hope it will inspire you to explore your imagination and write your own stories or draw your own pictures. In a world where technology keeps creeping in, it’s nice to explore the expanses of your own creativity. 

Please do check out my novels and other books, including a silly choose-your-ending style game book. Visit my website, SusanQuilty.com, or search for “Susan Quilty” wherever you buy books. There are also links in the show notes. 

Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you. 

[Light piano music]