Saturday, September 8, 2018

Flying. Or swimming through the air

My flying dreams start the same. A jump off the bed, or a chair, or a table - any surface, really. I doesn't matter, because once I decide to fly the air supports me like water, and I swim through it from room-to-room, feeling as graceful as a dolphin.

When was the last flying dream? I don't remember.


  1. Why have I never flown? Too heavy? ;-)

  2. Oh no, my flying dreams were outdoors. Funny how our flying dreams are so similar, but different. I used to need a bit of a run-up to fly.


Catching up day 3

May 21, 2018 My grandparents were the first people I knew to own a microwave oven. Theirs was brown*, had a tiny wind...