"All I remember, that day, was the gentle breeze, rain, and ash-grey sky that is so typical for Washington. I was on the balcony, watching the colorful parades of umbrellas tiptoe by on the ground, so far below. I was on the canopy of Seattle, my jungle, and they were, literally, the ants of my jungle floor.
But, the rest of that day was fuzzy. I remember, stepping up to the edge (And why? ) and the strong hands of someone- Or something? pushing me. I tumbled down, ragdolling; I was in a high-wire act, and my performance had seemingly come to an end.
The strangest part of this, I never hit the ground. Or, I seemingly, perpetually, never hit the ground. Physically, of course I did- I saw the cracked jaw, the blood pouring from my nose. I saw the umbrellas stop and stare; and my ants, my beautiful ants, were now larger than ever, and dumbfoundedly watching my steaming, dead hunk of flesh like a kid (wide-eyed, gaping mouth) who's never had a dog die before; their tears brimmed and the rain poured my blood into the streets, a crimson river.
It's difficult to explain, now, where I was during all this. Was I on the ground, dead? Or was I, back on the balcony, sitting and laughing at the doom of my frail, human body? Maybe I was kneeling, my knees on the cold cobblestone streets and soaked from the puddles. Maybe.
It's hard to tell you how I was all three, and all there. Dead, alive, and never once was I scared."
Wow, I had a dream. Good morning! :) There was much more to this dream but I don't really know how to comprehend it. Maybe after school I'll come and try to finish this short story. Either way, this was the most morbid, strong part of my dream, so I thought you guys would want to hear. Dreams always get my creative writing juices flowing.
Well, of to school! Bye, guys <3