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The Sandman

CHCH Rob Varblow

tutorial trading online The Sandman’s coming in his train of cars
With moonbeam windows and with wheels of stars
So hush you little ones and have no fear
The man-in-the-moon he is the engineer

The railroad track tis a moonbeam bright
That leads right up into the starry night

So put on you ‘jamas and say your prayers. 


Jake lay in bed at 3:16 AM as he had everyday for the last month: wide awake and staring into the unending darkness that had been his ceiling until his mother turned out the light. He lay there and counted the hours until he would have to get up to go to school, occasionally turning his head toward the digital alarm clock on the dresser by his bed. Each time he looked at the clock the first number was higher, and when he looked out the window, he could see the sky continuing its transition from black to blue.

Now, why was this young boy awake at such an ungodly hour? Hadn’t he been told how much growing boys need sleep? Ask yourself (for you were a child once) what is it that children all over the world lose sleep over every night? Nightmares, of course. And, like all other children, Jake did indeed have nightmares. Around 4:02 (by the clock on his dresser) he fell asleep.


order Seroquel usa The world that surrounded him was not his own. It was, like most dreams, close to the reality he knew but skewed. Like how the man who rode by on a bike was not riding a regular two-wheeled bicycle but a tall one with a huge front wheel like you would see in England in the 1880s. Or the woman in a power-suit who drove by in the Oscar Meyer Wiener Car. Jake stood on the sidewalk outside his house and watched the goings-on. His mind was affected by the “dream logic” that often accompanies us in dreams, and the things he saw seemed perfectly natural to him.

www opzioni binari Off in the distance he heard the chimes he had been straining to hear. Soon he could see the ice cream man turning onto his street and heading towards him with painful slowness. Jake had a five dollar bill in his hand, and he licked his lips thinking of what to spend it on. A cone? No, maybe a Popsicle today.

strategie opzioni binarie sui vari titoli As the truck got closer, Jake noticed a sinister change in the chimes blasting from the speakers on top of the vehicle. Where once the speakers had been playing a jolly (though slightly warped) rendition of “Pop Goes The Weasel,” it now played a series of chords strange to the ear. An expert in music history could have identified these hexachords 60 sekunden traden as Diabolus in Musica, forex stora gatan västerås öppettider “the Devil in Music.” But Jake was not an expert in music history and could only bring his fists up to his ears to block the sound.

onetwotrade com de login It did not quiet when he covered his ears. In fact, the sound seemed to be getting louder. Through squinted eyes he looked out at the street for the approaching truck. The five dollar bill fell from his hand and dropped gently to the pavement. Finally, when he thought the music would drive him mad, it stopped. Jake opened his eyes fully and saw that the ice cream truck had stopped directly in front of him. The driver was cast in shadow in spite of the broad daylight.

Tastylia Oral Strip without prescription “Whuddya want, kid?” The voice came from the driver’s seat though the figure itself did not move.

viagra för kvinnor 2017 “I-I don’t want anything.” Jake was no longer hungry.

trading on line opinioni “Ahhh but everyone want’s some ice cream. You know the old song. I scream-”[blogList][trackback]=1 indikatoren für binäre optionen “No.” Jake shook his head and turned around to run.

binäre optionen hintergrund “You scream-”

cose autopzionibinarie “No, please.” Jake pleaded. Looking down he saw that the sidewalk had been replaced with quicksand, and he was sinking.

“We all scream-”

Jake looked back as the figure moved quickly from the driver’s seat to the passenger’s side and opened the door.

“For ice cream!”


Jake woke up screaming two minutes before his alarm went off to start the day.

The next night Jake asked to sleep in his parents’ bed with them. “Now, Jake, you are almost a young man,” his mother said, “too old to be sleeping with mommy and daddy.” So she walked him back to his room, tucked him in, and shut off the light. The light sensitive night light by his bed flickered weakly then went out, leaving Jake in utter darkness. It wasn’t until 5:32 that he fell asleep.


The setting was as it always was but with one distinct difference: it was finally night time. The moon above was full, huge, and yellow, surrounded by millions of stars; in this dream there was no need to worry about light pollution. This seemed strange to Jake, cutting through his “dream logic” like a knife. This is different, his dream-self thought, and that was when he heard the sound of the chimes playing from the next street over. He looked down the street and waited for the ice cream truck he knew was coming.

When it did the smile dropped from his lips. It wasn’t an ice cream truck coming towards him but a large black hearse with speakers on top blaring “Pop Goes The Weasel.” Then the music changed abruptly to the Diabolus in Musica, and the hearse sped up, racing down the street towards him. Jake turned to run but felt himself being pulled back. He looked up to see that the hearse had already pulled up to him and the figure inside had come out and taken hold of him.

“You didn’t want my ice cream didya, boy?” The figure was still dark except for his eyes, which were a blinding but hypnotic white, and his mouth which had two lines of sharp and crooked teeth. “Maybe you want what’s in there instead!” It screamed pointing back to the hearse. “Put on you ‘jamas, boy, and say your prayers.” It slowly brought its face closer to Jake’s.

Jake tried to pull away, but the dark figure held on to him like a vice. He was about to begin screaming for help he knew wouldn’t come when he heard a great laugh. It was a jolly laugh and, thinking it came from the dark figure, Jake thought it strange and uncharacteristic and was, for a moment, even more terrified. Then the figure let go of him and pulled away. Jake realized the laugh had come from above.

He looked up and saw that a great yellow track had appeared running horizontally directly above him. He gasped as he heard a pop in the distance and then a flash of color on the horizon. When he looked back up, a large train was parked on the tracks. It glowed yellow like the moon, and at seeing its light the dark figure ran back to its hearse and sped off in the direction from whence it came. The train itself was familiar, and after a moment Jake knew why. He had seen one like it at Disneyland. “It’s a monorail,” he said out loud.

As if compelled by the sound of his voice, a door opened on the side of the monorail, and a rope ladder dropped down which Jake, without pause, climbed up. The inside of the train was small with only some plush seats, a bed, and a big steering wheel like you’d see at the helm of a ship. Next to the large wheel stood a man with a long gray beard and a twinkle in his eye. He smiled.

“Well Jake, how about we take you to a dream more to your liking?”

Jake stood aghast, then with some effort asked, “How do we do that?” and then remembered the more important question, “And who are you?”

The man smiled a kind, close-mouthed smile. “I’m the sandman to answer your second question first, and, to answer your first question second, I’ll show you.” He motioned for Jake to come up to the front of the train where there was a big front window. He pointed to the sky and said, “You see the stars up there, Jake? Those are all dreams. Some of them better than this one, though some of them far worse.” He paused and looked down at Jake. “Lots of good ones though. Would you like to go to one?” Jake nodded. The door that Jake had come through slid closed, and he could hear it lock. “Hold tight, Jake.” There was a pop, and the train, Jake, and The Sandman were gone.


Jake slept through the night until his alarm woke him up to get ready for school. He smiled all day and slept soundly the next night. When his mother tucked him in and turned out the light, Jake was asleep before she had walked down the hall back to her bedroom. This wasn’t the last time Jake had a nightmare, but when they did occur, he felt more in control of them. Every once and awhile he’d be visited by The Sandman, and good dreams would always follow.

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