Friday, April 10, 2015


The dream was pretty straight forward
I was drowning. Bluish-green water sliced between my white-tipped fingers, but I wasn't swimming. Like a bobber, I surfaced and dipped, surfaced and dipped.
Red stripe center going under, never to feel dry socks again.

Between the shouts to stop fighting, I heard whispers of encouragement; it was maddening.
I just wanted to close my eyes and let the cool water cradle me, and yet, I fought.
Lungs burning, breathing smooth sailing.
Tender fingers of fright caressed me.

It was a dream, drowning.