At first he thought it was just his imagination. A dream that felt all too real—nothing more. He lay his head on his pillow, rested his eyes a bit. And next thing he knew he was floating, peering down at the crease his head left on the cushion. The room was dark, its inky corners thick with threats of things unknown.
The sole light shot through the blinders, its rays sliced like blades cutting through the night. They shone on the wood-tiled floor creating an ethereal gate—the window’s skewed moonlight shadow. The boy pushed trepidation aside and jumped through the shiny door on the floor.
His airy body then shot through the window, sucked up into the frigid night sky. At any moment he could have come spiraling down to earth like a broken pebble. His arms reached out performing a weird balancing act, where only wishful thinking kept him afloat.
He flew over a sleeping Iron Maiden, then sped over puffing white clouds and rolling green hills, braying motley cattle and drifting bright kites. Ahead, the giant Ferris wheel gleamed in the dark. Stars above danced on a full moon. He sped up toward the circus’ shimmering lanterns.
When he reached it, the candy shop girl with ashen hair was perched on the highest gondola. She smiled with tight lips—words hammering to get out. The boy sat next to her, shaking. He lied and said it was the cold.
She couldn’t wait to get down to business. Gazing into her almond-shaped eyes, an alien chill coursed through him. She whispered her name and gave him her home address. Come see me if you want some more.
He could hardly wait.
