The nibbling at my nose is gentle but insistent.
I flick at it, and realise that I'm asleep; the poorly aimed slap opens my eyes to the darkness of my bedroom.
And I see what awoke me.
In front of my bleary eyes, gold on black, a perfectly-illuminated fish hangs in mid air. A slow trail of tiny bubbles work their way towards the ceiling.
My waking mind misses the point of the scene and tries to identify the fish's species. Some kind of comet? An oranda, maybe? My gaze seems to be making it wary, whatever it is, and its fins flutter it backward. It stays close though, and as my eyes flick upward to seek its light source, the fish darts in again and continues its attentions.
My second swipe is more accurate and I have the satisfaction seeing the fishy phantom flash through the open bedroom door and down the stairs.
This is stupid; I'm clearly dreaming.
Rolling away from the door to face the window, I close my eyes, ignoring the rogue male shark cruising past in the moonlight; if the goldfish gets the front door open, I hope it eludes him.
I yawn and resist any urge to go and investigate this fantasy; on any other day, this would be the beginning of a grand adventure. But tonight, I'm tired and achey and more than a little annoyed at being 'woken'.
It's been a long week.
As I drift off, I make a mental note to buy tuna.
And I dream of zebras.
This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012