We flew overhead while you sat in bed, watching

A pleasant midnight dream where the sun comes up, a brilliant blue and white. The grasses are damp and almost as tall as my neck when I sit cross-legged, I feel like I'm a lopsided soccer ball floating on a sea of waving, drifting green.

As I stand up, the breeze shifts slightly. Chilly, but not cold enough to draw a shiver. It's an odd mix of the sun's warm, lambent rays, and the invisible eddies of the twilight air. I'm an old sack of bones in a weathered leather case, but even a rattling old sack like me remembers how to fly. Joints pop and fingers creak as I lift my arms, and suddenly I'm drifting like a frond on a river-bend.

And of course, as I drift, I dream of sleeping. Water lapping on shorelines, and - of course - that one feeling that permeates the universe. The feeling of being absolutely, completely, and utterly alone. And, for this short nap within a short nap, being absolutely alright with that.

Before I know it, I'm an arrow, cutting a path through the grass. The smell of green and damp is everywhere, and I can't feel my face, it's so cold. But I'm exhilarated. All I want to do is go faster and faster. In some sleep-groggy crease in my brain, I imagine that if I go fast enough, I'll break through into the real world, flight and all. Before too long its just a giant green and blue blur, hypnotizing in its beauty. Of course, before too long, it all becomes wearying, like I'm running but can't remember why. Somewhere, thunder claps, and I begin to spiral down, through the grass, through the dirt, through the very earth itself.

As I descend, it's night-time. I can see the lights below, still very distant. I can imagine which ones are yours, and which ones are mine. I'm curious, and I'd like to see each one up close. But not yet.

It's winter now, and before anything, I'm standing in the park. The sky is pink with biting frost, and even the snow on the ground would shiver if it could. I'm standing here trying to remember why I'm here. And then it's all very clear.

This was the beginning.

Another clap of thunder and then I'm awake. A gibbering of languages is in my head, before resolving itself to the sound of a desk fan, speaking self-importantly.