Lucid Dreaming

It always begins with a leap—a long, hard leap. And before I know it, I’m floating in an endless sea of stars. For what seems like an eternity, I’m swimming around in the star-field evening hoping never to touch the ground. As I follow the invisible path that loops around the corner of the universe, the dark transitions into clouds and clouds, and blue sky and more fresh, blue sky and I’m still flying. Gliding. Swimming.

The adrenaline feels far too real to be a dream. How could I be asleep when I can feel the air on my face?

Blue sky now turns into something more fluid. I pass the thin lines of water running behind me as I continue to push forward. Even as I close my eyes, I see shapes floating beside me.

This couldn’t be real, right? Am I dreaming? This could be—

Gravity is pulling me down. No, logic is pulling me down. I try to push myself up so I can continue creating pictures but it all crumbles down, and all I can see is darkness.