I daydream on occasion about a group of monsters that cross the road when I drive.
These are not normal monsters.
These are not violent monsters.
These monsters browse within the fields with the deer. They are imaginary but intensely interesting.
Their bodies are translucent. For the most part they appear to be buffalo.
A thick strip of fur and skin circles the fat creature. It lines the abdomen, encircles the neck and follows the chest and belly.
Within the translucent body the organs wiggle and jolt as the creature moves and leaps across the asphalt.
The creatures head is non-existent. How that works I don’t know but it just is.
Occasionally I will have, what I call, visions. These graphic daydreams show up and take me away for seconds at a time. I thought I would start recording them within a new series of blog posts.
There a a tall water tower… guessing its about 140 foot up. A large bulbous section of the tower was colored with long droplets of dark blue. The blue droplets stopped mid-way down and the remaining tower was painted white. Just under the bulbous section is a group of hand holds stacked vertically. The were out of place, which is why it held my attention.
The super star, I imagine I am, hung from the bottom rung 100-foot in the air. No safety gear just me and a crap load of adrenaline. Confidently, I grab the second rung. My fingers grasp the iron rungs like a clamp as my right arm holds all my weight. I reach up for the second rung and transfer the weight to my left hand. The third rung sits, what seems like ,a mile away. My left arm prepares for the weight as my right carefully lets go. My feet slip off the smooth white surface of the water tower and I hang precariously by my left hand. Like a movie star in an action flick, I recovered and both hands held securely to the third rung.
A new problem arose, which I hadn’t thought of before I decided to hang from the rungs. There were no more rungs and nothing to put my feet on. There was a thin iron rail that ran around the tower but it was just below the first rung. I, being 6-foot tall, was unable to bend into that position so I was stuck. My arms pulsating and my hands screaming for me to let go. Eventually, I did and I began to fall backward. Imagine all the passengers, driving by on the freeway, screaming as they watch a normal looking man falling 100 foot to the ground. Imagine me, the wind in my frightened hair, falling what 60 miles and hour to the ground?
I can only imagine the initial fright as I begin to fall. I can’t even fathom the feeling on impacting the grass and concrete underneath the ground. I will likely be quick, but what if it’s not. What if I am lying there conscious wanting to die?
Luckily it’s only a dream.