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Dating : Dream State

h2>Dating : Dream State

Andrew Heagle

I fell from the tallest building and lived to tell the tale. No parachute. Never hit the ground. I just fell. Sweating and panting I flail my arms and legs in an attempt to slow the cork-screwing of my body. I feel no air resistance countering my movements and still faster I fall. Unable to end the spinning I steady my appendages pulling my feet together, placing palms to thighs. In attempt to slow the roll, I counter the rotation by shimmying my hips imitating the squirm of a hawk-moth pupa. The cork-screwing slows enough to feel air now ripping at my flesh, filling my mouth and nasal cavity with chilled air as I plunge faster and faster. Closing my mouth, I breathe rhythmically forcing air into and out from my nose.

My body transforms into a bomb, fat and cylindrical like a submarine or like one of those large white propane tanks you see scattered along the countryside — but with a four-finned tail on one end. With the crown of my head facing down, I’m a bomb cork-screwing from darkness headed for more darkness. Nothing above or below, nothing left or right. A void. I’m a big fat bomb painted dull grey with my front sporting jagged white teeth as ruby red blood drips from the corners of the mischievous shark-mouth grin. My speed picks up. Amidst the aerial chaos I can see a pinhole of light quickly grow to the size of a postage stamp and then a wall poster. A bustling city — buildings, roads, trains, cars. People walking like ants in the daylight. Darkness above me, a vibrant city below. A bomb closing in on City Hall I spin no longer. The nose of the bomb — my head— steadies as the tail fins set my blood-soaked pearly whites on precise course to thump the center of town. My stomach is strangled by knotted intestines. Closing in quickly, the City’s landscape extends left and right. I can see the dull white of concrete — City Hall — with its pearly entrance pillar facade. Closing my eyes I brace for impact but feel nothing.

Moments later I open my eyes. Flooded with the surrounding glow of pinks, reds, greens and blues, I float engulfed in a nebula of god-like proportion. A flicker of white light commands my attention. I point to it and sail through the pastel rainbow palette like Superman or Captain Marvel — in control. The light flickers again and I stay on course; it morphs into a sphere and I float above the familiar place — Earth. Lights in the shape of Cuba and the panhandle of Florida sparkle in the darkness. To the north I make out the length of Long Island and the radiant glow of New York City. I head for Upstate New York to a quiet road in Syracuse just outside downtown. Descending, I land in the center of a pothole-ridden street and approach the green residential building complemented by its colorful neighbors. Up the front steps I turn the doorknob and enter the residence. Peering down the main hallway I can see a man laying in bed. He looks a lot like me. Suddenly I feel pressure building intensely beneath my stomach. I look down and feel the bloat before looking back up at the sleeping man.

My eyelids split open and I raise my lower jaw to close my mouth against the resisting push of a lumpy soft pillow. Full of liquid, my stomach feels uncomfortable and my left arm is so numb it’s lifeless. The sheets are damp and my body pulses with each speedy thump of my heart. Rolling over my useless appendage I plant my feet to the slat wood floor and land looking down the hall into the foyer by the entrance way. Sensing I’m being watched I step slowly down the hallway. As I near the entrance everything is as remembered — the door is shut with curtains closed. I walk briskly to one of the front windows and draw the curtain. A squirrel sits hands-clasped atop the porch rail on hind legs working to crack a hazelnut. My left arm tingles as its nerves regain consciousness and I wiggle my fingers. I head back down the hall and into the bathroom before rolling back into bed and closing my eyes asleep. This was last night.

Laying awake most nights I wonder where my soul might travel once my eyelids close and my consciousness is laid to rest. There’s only one way to find out. Goodnight.

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