Song Title Challenge #43: Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day

It’s time for this week’s Song Title Challenge.

Write a short piece of fiction, around 300 words, using the song title as your story title but don’t listen to the song.  You can pick your own genre or use the one suggested to me.  Remember to link back to this post so I can find yours.

If you would like to suggest a song title for a future post, you can do so from the challenge page.  You can also leave a suggestion on the Facebook page.

Thanks to bumblepuppies for this week’s very tame suggestion (compared to past titles) of Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not that I’m complaining – I think Green Day makes some pretty decent music and am very thankful to have a band that I’ve heard of before for a change).  The genre is Fantasy/Sci-Fi.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

“What is this place?” said Troy.  The road undulated into the distance, purple hills strewn with half-built machines and broken-down vehicles.  On the horizon he could just make out the lone spire of a ruined castle.

“I call it the boulevard of broken dreams,” said Tasha.  “Each of us have one, somewhere.  Think of all the ideas you’ve ever given up on, every failed risk, every disappointment, every…”

“Broken dream.  I get it.  Sounds depressing.”

“Try dangerous.  This is where nightmares live, and we won’t wake up at the last second.  Don’t step off the path.  For anything.  Even if you lose sight of me, stay on the path.”

Tasha set off and Troy made sure to stay close.  He wanted to save Clem, but he was starting to wonder about the wisdom of entering Clem’s mind to do so.

“Don’t let your mind wander,” Tasha’s voice broke into his thoughts.


“You need to focus.  If you start questioning yourself, or simply just get distracted you could wind up lost here forever.  Even I won’t be able to find you.  Now, why are we here?”

“To find and bring back Clem.”

“Say it again.  Why are we here?”

“To find and bring back Clem.”

“Right.  Hold onto that.  Don’t let any other thought in.”

Something by the roadside caught Troy’s eye.  It was a mess of cogs and springs and flywheels.  Troy recalled Clem telling him long ago that as a kid he’d wanted to be a clockmaker.

When Troy looked up Tasha was gone.  Worse, the road seemed to be as well.

“Tasha?  Tasha, where are you?”

No one answered.

Troy blinked.  It seemed to be darker than a moment ago, and colder.  He heard a sound behind him, but when he turned there was nothing there.  He had to find the road.

Copyright © 2014 Herman Kok

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