The concise case of Reeds family

The reeds were a big family, living in the shallow waters. They were thankful for all the turd the water brought to them. There was the tallest of them, Mr. Reeds, tugging his mustache, thinking long about the future of his family. He was worried about the young reed dallying with the Dahlia. He was happy about the little reed growing up to a perfect aquiline form. But then again he was distressed to see the thickets thronging the area. He wanted to stop their growth. He wondered if throwing imprecations at them would shunt their growth. But then, he was a family man. He looked at Mrs. Reed, coddling with little little reeds. He noted in his mind to have a meeting with the thickets and the decide borders. The cantankerous old Read was wilting beside him. Mr. Reed thought of the huge responsibilities he had ahead of him.
   What was i thinking when i started this story about the family of Reeds?. Where will i take it now?.
   Haha .. guess i'll have to summon a character wearing a gauze veil and wielding a sickle.  That. ;)

Dream

The little man was having his beach time. He had been thinking about the faraway beach and a lonely evening here, just to count the waves. He looked up. The sky was perfect with billowing clouds. He waded through the wild weeds on the edge of the sand. He felt a spurt of joy, when he thought of, how far away he is from friends. Their banter always grated him. Just when he thought he was alone there, he saw an eunuch walking towards him. He croaked a curse and walked to the waves, hoping, the eunuch hasn't seen him. He was always not seen by others. This one is scrawny, he thought. The rivulets made by the retrieving waves were also scrawny. But in a moment, with a shudder he realised, the eunuch is coming straight to him. Suddenly he was half delirious. He saw a boat approaching him. He was writhing, for some sensation he felt. He saw that the boat was a Trimaran, with a tattered flag on it's stern. The sailor was pattering something to him. The scrawny eunuch was almost in a sprint now. The little man tightened his sash around his hip and ran to the waves.
He was sure he made it to the Trimaran, when he woke up to the alarm bell, just then.

Mountain.

The man looked up the escarpment. The valley had already tired him. But he refused to take his eyes off the peak. He took a flint in his hand and tried to figure out, if the scatological scent came from the stone. The scent had been smothering him, making him much less willing to breath. He thought of the designs and the frays of the eider-down on his bed. He thought of surviving the pervasive abominable scent while the climb up. He thought about a delicious little morsel of meat. Then he identified his enemy and obliterated it. 
He started climbing.