Was this a dream?
Maybe if I pinch myself I’ll wake up.
But what if I don’t want to?
What if I want to stay in this dream world?
This world where up was down and down was up. A world where logic and sense had no meaning. She wanted to stay here. Where she could walk on air, over a ground of nothing. Where birds dived in and out of puddles of clouds, a light fog covering the not-ground. If this was a dream then she didn’t want to wake, didn’t want to leave this place. With a sky full of water, rippling to the wind. Where she could see fish flying like glittering kites.
And if time passed, she couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered.
During the days, she could float in a pool of clouds. The sun beneath her back, warming her to her very core. Birds dipping in and out all around her, trailing mist from the tips of their wings and tails.
At night, the moon shone against the wet sky and pulled it close enough to touch if she jumped just high enough. The fish gathering, their scales flashing in unison as an underwater rainbow.
She hoped she’d never leave this place, this world where the sea and sky were switched. Where all sense and logic was scrapped. If this is what it meant to dream, then the waking world was no place fo her.