Wicked Wednesday: Dreams

By Tony Hisgett from Birmingham, UK (Fanabe beach sunset 1) [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”
– Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

I often dream. Many nights my dreams can turn quite horrific, and I have to claw my way back through the layers of sleep to awaken. Other nights my dreams are pleasant, fun, and occasionally erotic, and these dreams I struggle to stay asleep to keep the dream going longer.

If I had a choice tonight, I would drift off to sleep, and wake to find myself caressed by a warm breeze blowing from the ocean. I’d be lying on a beach, and the sun would be setting across the waters, painting pink and orange across the sky and the waves. The sand would be cool beneath my naked body, and I’d stretch and sit, trailing my fingers in the damp sand, feeling the grains beneath my nails. I’d wiggle my toes, and then rise, naked, and walk towards the water, my nipples hardening in the breeze, my hips swaying, and my hair tickling the top of my ass.

My toes would touch the water first, and I’d walk slowly in, like Venus returning to the womb, the water lapping up around my knees. When the water reached my waist, I’d use my hands to spread the water in front of me as I walked, going farther, being drawn by the sun and what waited below.

When the water reached my neck, I would sink below the surface, my hair trailing out in the water behind me. Once submerged I’d start to swim, my legs kicking together, joining, becoming one. My feet flattening, spreading, becoming fins as delicate scales covered me from the waist down. I’d open my mouth, inhaling the salty water, and slits at my neck would form, becoming gills, allowing me to breathe. I’d swim away through the dimly lit water, through the blackness, towards the setting sun, never looking back but only forward, towards my life.

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