Honey Child Dreams

The bright light finds it’s opening through the clouds, shooting through enough glare to make my eye’s squint. I raise my hand to salute the sun while stretching my head forward to gain more clarity.

Something glistens in the distant haze.

There is no one around me, just me and my dream. There is emptiness in sound, and I begin to glide. Gliding gently forward, the vision becomes clearer.

A treasure chest of jewels becomes brighter than the sun’s attempt, and more pleasing to the eye. The chest is full of sparkling gemstones in every beautiful colour imaginable, the colours broken by drizzles of gold chains.

This is not all.

I look just beyond the chest and there stands a table laden in bountiful glory. A giant size bowl sits in the middle, boasting exotic and delicious fruits, pink and yellow cream cakes sit waiting on two tier silver platers. Lemonade fizzes from rainbow coloured goblets.

An arm comes from behind and wraps itself around my tiny shoulder. Unafraid, I sink into the lady’s ample bossom. She strokes my hair and says ‘It’s okay honey child, everything is going to be okay.’ She places warm fluffy slippers on my feet.

My anxiety and fear are gone and I bask, in all that is wonderful and all that is mine.

Then all of a sudden an unwelcome splash of warm water hits my chest. The water runs down my shoulders into the bottom of my hair and soaks my sheet.

Begrudgingly, I get up and gather my sister in my arms. I change her, then myself into some dry clothes. I throw a dry towel on the wet spots and tuck my sister back into bed.

Laying back in mine, I desperately try, unsuccessfully, to go back to my dream.

Silently I curse, I hate sleeping in the bottom bunk.

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Tags:

bunkbeds, chanel2, child, dream, honey, sister and story