Friday 27 November 2009

Dream...

So there I was, lost in a sea of nothingness. then suddenly I was plucked from the dark, like the internal organs of a dead-man, plucked from his body by a vulture in the desert, and in the split second between being asleep and dreaming, I'm aware. Aware that everything is going to change. It doesn't happen for long though, like when you strike a match and the head turns from unused to useless, the milisecond in between where it's nothing, both dead and alive.

I was a pilot. Not your average pilot though. I was a teenage pilot. We were in the middle of nowhere in some random course, doing some random almost-missionary-like-work although it was strange and not quite religious, more just like volunteer work. There was some chinese guy who phoned home to see if it would work when he had his lunch-break (not caring for the time-difference I notice) and then suddenly I was outside. Next thing I know I'm in a field with a caravan helping some guy home with me are two friends (can't remember who) and we jump into something that in my mind looks like a glider but definitely wasnt' because it has thrusters or whatever the fuck those "blastey-blastey-movey-movey" things were under the wings.

Next thing I know we're flying round the country (Distorted Britain) i.e. over it, but it looks like we're flying over a map of it and that we're really, really, close to it, and getting really, really, far in really, really short amounts of time.

Next thing I know I'm asking the guy we're taking home if we can land and then we crash. But we crash in the back of some apartment blocks that look like they're from another country. It's strange as fuck. Then we have to climb down some balconies to retrieve our (now small) plane and find a way out.

The End.

xx