by Jamey Sharp, 3/30/2003
There is a cowboy here. His beauty is greater than any woman I have ever seen - but I do not really see him, only an incongruous construct. I dream.
He disappears in glare as the sun rises. I stare at it, but I know I am dreaming and refuse to let the bright light hurt my eyes. In frustration, the sun creeps behind a cloud. I dream.
From that cloud, lightning strikes, as though the sun were peeking through cracks. Again. It falls quickly, finding its way across the landscape, searching for me. But it is in my dream: it cannot hurt me. I dream.
Those bolts... they look like legs, walking. As I realize this, they follow my thought. But what material are they made of? It looks like wood. I have seen this before, in a movie. I feel disappointed: pop culture is invading my dreams. I dream.
A forest forms around me where before there was only plains. I lie down as the trees walk slowly past me. A root rises over me - then falls past. I feel peaceful: these trees can present no threat to me. I dream.
The world begins to warp, deform slightly. I watch as a layer of water forms over me. Ripples, small waves, traverse the surface, filtering my view of the forest. I dream.
My memory ends. I sleep.