Seamonster Page 10 - bird dream
I think I love this dream. I can’t remember.
It’s my bird dream, and in it I can fly. (I have to fly). Tingling, in the pit of my stomach, up my spine and out through my arms. A roller coaster feeling, lighter than air, and I rise, I’m pushed up. I’m house height, and I can see across the rooftops. The tingling is overwhelming and suddenly it’s syrupy to fly (panic) and I have to push mentally downwards really hard to stay afloat. But I’m used to this; I know I can get higher if I push (I push)
Looking down I can see houses, streets, geometry of a dreamtown, and I know I am as high as a bird. When I’m this high flying is easy again. I surge upward, belly-down, effortlessly. I can do nothing to stop rising. Clouds are between the Earth and myself, gently drifting, and I slow to a standstill at the top of the sky.
Here are all the others, looking down and smiling. But unlike the other bird dreamers, I roll over. I roll over and I look up.
