I was brought to the floor from my comfortable resting place atop my couch. Face to the floor, body outstretched, I spun out of control to the depths of a forest. The sky was rotating about an unseen axis; the reversed circadian rhythm perfectly in sync to the pulsing of the trees. The trees were shrinking; they were being pulled back into the ground. There was too much motion. I lay on my prepared bed of leaves eyes shut unable to open them for fear of the nausea returning. I just buried my faced into the strangely soft leaves until time slowed to a familiar pace.
I looked up, and was greeted by a grassy plain. There were a few trees off into the distance reaching up, trying to grab the moon. It was not night; the sky was orange at the apex slowly shifting to a deep purple before disappearing behind the horizon. It was not a linear shift. Where the two colors merged was a playful intermingling of light, very reminiscent of a sunrise on mushrooms. There is something eerie about that sky, but I can’t place my finger on it. No wind is blowing; the grasses are still. Damn, this atmosphere is quiet.
I find peace that I am alone.
I felt breath hit my physical body again. I jumped to all fours, but my eyes could not open back to the physical realm. I remained in this ghostly landscape as I began to run across the plain. Something is strange about this too. “ Have I?” I looked down. “I have four legs.” I am a big cat; the species is irrelevant because I am running faster than I have ever ran before. The wind streamlined around me; it caressed me as I attempted to pick up speed. The grasses broke apart from me as I gracefully tapped the Earth. So efficient. So little of a touch provided enough force to propel me along at this godly speed.
My eyes open. My friends greet me, “Where did that journey take you?” They were laughing at the invisible force that brought me to the ground.
We are...
We are like that sentence.
We are not finished.