dreamer

It's low, way too low. A wide-body jet is circling the town, banking hard and describing loud circles. Its starboard wing points verticaly to earth. Easing out of the turn, it levels then banks to port. It's losing altitude with every second and the engines are screaming now. Somehow the pilot has aligned the doomed airplane with the main street through town and he's aiming to crash land. The plane's wingspan is nearly twice the width of the road. Almost immediately the wings are clipped off by buildings and the fuselage collapses onto its belly. There is a screech of tearing metal as the tube of steel careers along the street, flattening all in its path. There is a brief silence then a spectacular blast.

There's really no need to get dressed. It'll take too long. Anyway, if I hurry no one will see me. I'm not sure where I'm going but it's urgent. I scamper along the pavement, my bare feet slapping on the warm concrete. I slow and walk behind a parked car as a group of people pass by on the far side of the road. They don't even see me. There is no cover for the next hundred yards but I sprint on, confident that if I ignore people they won't register me. Naked running could be the next craze. A car approaches and instinctively I drop my hands to protect my modesty. Heads inside the car turn to look at me and I run on. I think they saw me. Up ahead a couple are walking towards me. I can't avoid them and in fact I recognise them. They stop to greet me and don't mention my nakedness. I feel exposed but carry on a conversation as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

The sun is blazing in a bright blue sky. I'm walking along a road in an average town. I begin to flex my legs then jump slightly, leaving the ground for just a split second. It's a nice feeling. I do it again and find I am not as heavy as usual. I jump perhaps six feet in the air then settle gently back on the ground. On my next jump I flap my arms. It seems a ridiculous thing to try but it actually works. I feel myself propelled higher. I flap again and the upward surge is stronger still. Two more quick wing beats and I'm as high as the rooftops. I can see beyond them to the fields and hills in the distance. I skim the roofs and catch a thermal, suddenly climbing fast. I must be five hundred feet above the ground yet I'm not scared. I glide over the town seeing people scurry about like ants. I dive and pick up speed, swooping between buildings then soaring upwards again. A line of pylons marches across the fields ahead, carrying power lines. I have to decide whether to fly under or over the lines. One sharp flap and I'm up and soaring over them. I feel the warm sun on my back and a gentle breeze in my face. I must do this more often.