Member-only story
Dreaming of Departure
A Dream Narration
The night before my departure, before my journey around the world becomes real, I am frigid with anxiety. Needles prick my body and poke my brain. I can't sleep.
A biblical wave washes over my distressed soul by some divine intervention, drowning my eyes in a twilight's slumber. Then they open to dreamy daylight.
I slowly look away from the sun's rays extending across a clear blue sky. Children cheerfully scream and kick a ball around. Groups of lounging adults in pairs are scattered throughout the park. Huh. It looks much like your elementary school playground, the part where you liked walking by to wonder what existed in the woods beyond the fence.
Three young women approach me, urging me to hurry up. To where exactly, I don't know. The excited beach blondes, thrust from some vintage Coca-Cola ad campaign, tug at my arm with their short bangs and neat ponytails bobbing innocently. They look so perfect, like the Barbies you wish you were.
I reluctantly follow the bubbly trio, lugging a heavy picnic blanket along the way. I follow them because what else is there to do? Where else do I go? That's the heavy blanket you carry around in the real world. Maybe it's time to let it go?
Why do my feet feel uncomfortably wet? Where are my shoes? I study my white socks…
