What struck her most about the dream was how perfectly normal the umbrellas had been. As if, had they not been hanging there, magically suspended over every inch of sky, then something would be off. Their presence was assumed by all the pedestrians moving beneath the canopy.
The next thing that struck her about the dream was just how cold the rain felt. One drop, squarely on the bridge of her nose caused an unexpected sneezing fit. When she looked up, the umbrellas had begun to slowly drop, some more quickly than others. A man in a trench-coat and fedora paused, looking up expectantly as an umbrella drifted towards him. He curled his fingers repetetively in the universal sign of “hurry up please” and the umbrella obediently moved faster. He grasped the handle, and it lifted him effortlessly away by one hand, as he held a newspaper in the other hand and his briefcase under his arm.
She was not awake yet. Strange, since she usually awoke as soon as she realized she was dreaming.
Watching others beckon the umbrellas to them, she decided to try it for herself. Soon she was floating off somewhere… there seemed to be no direction to her flight. Her arm was bent comfortably, as it would have been if she’d been standing on the ground supporting the weight of the umbrella instead of hanging from the thing as it drifted away.
The cityscape below turned to countryside, and her arm grew tired. The rain clouds were far behind her, and the sun shone brightly.
Curious, she flipped the umbrella upside-down beneath her, riding in it like a boat. Abruptly, the umbrella switched direction, taking her towards the sea on the horizon. As she slipped gently into the waves, the umbrella stretched until it pointed in the front, cutting through the gentle waves. She had no idea what her destination was, but in a dream, she was up for anything.
Glancing behind her, she could no longer see the shore. For some reason, this didn’t bother her at all. The waves lulled her, and she felt tired.
She leaned back, and was soon fast asleep.
And she dreamed.
This was written for the picture prompt, and it isn’t related to anything else I’ve done. I have no idea what it means, either, but it’s interesting…
The shortlink for this post is http://wp.me/p1rMYd-oC