Dreaming?

There is no horizon.  The clouds are so bright, but there is no sun. They seem to shine with their own inner light, and lie further away than the horizon can be.  There is long, dry grass  everywhere, in all directions the same.



I am alone.  And it is silent. No birds sing, no insects chirp, no wind soughs through the grass. I must be dreaming. 



I walk on toward the bright clouds, faster and faster.  The air smells odd, but wonderful: fresh, clean, invigorating, comforting. I suck it in to the bottom of my lungs slowly and long, savoring each breath, before blowing it out gently, in spite of my rapid pace.



The grass on my legs is not as it should be -- not scratchy and irritating, but caressing, as if there were thousands of tiny fingers gently, lovingly massaging my muscles. I run faster yet, ever stronger. I feel power enter my body as never before.



I have no sense of time, but I must have covered an immense distance. The light, though now much nearer, does not hurt my eyes in the least. Rather it seems to soothe them, relaxing them. Tears form in my eyes and I laugh and cry out in almost unbearable joy, as the first fringes of cloud surround me, embrace me, rejoice with me.



Now I know for certain where I am. All my life I have hoped to come here. Never have I walked before, never have I not struggled with every breath. But now I have come running -- come leaping! -- HOME.



260 words