Everybody has bad dreams. Horrible things move towards you in the dark, things you can hear but not see. someone or something sleeps by your side and whispers terror in your ears, death starring at you from every corner, and fear send you mad.....
I was near Richmond, in Virginia, on a walk with a friend beside the James river. when night came, there was a sudden storm. We saw an old sailing boat at the side of the river, and hurried along to it.
'We must get out of this storm,'I said to my friend. 'The boat is very small, but it will keep us dry,'
So we slept there that night. the beds were very narrow, and were not much better than long wooden boxes in the side of the boat. They were only half a meter from top to bottom. it was difficult to get into a bed that was so small, but I slept well... and dreamt.
In my dream, and of course it was a dream, my narrow wooden bed became my coffin, the damp smell came from the river and the wet ground after the rain. and the men who shook me to wake me up were the workmen on the boat.
It was a dream, yes, Burt the terror was real, and terror can make people ill, or even kill them.
But something good came from this adventure. After that day I stopped thinking about death and burial. I went walking and riding, and breathing the free air. my fears went away, and my catalepsy went with them.
It is easy to understand the terror of a living burial, the terror of walking inside a closed coffin.
But we must put away thought like these, and close the door on them, or fear and worry will send us to an early Grave.
Inspired from Thy Great Edgar Allan Poe.