Flash.
Sunlight streams in. Fingers fly. Messages channel. A myriad of words imprinted on the back of my eyes.

Wake up. Endless stream.

Mermaids are real!

Rubbish!

Hey, give it back!

BLIMEY! You are silly!

Two children. British by the sounds of it. Zipping around the cafe. Have I fallen asleep in a public place? Am I here or there?

Last night I went to bed with a fractured wrist. Slumped over with food poisoning. And trying my hardest to keep hold of my sanity as some awful wretching bug made its way through my system.

I was sleeping on a floor in the palace of the lord. The rain was deafening. which was just as well as it muffled my moaning and delirious cries. I had fever dreams. A dragon of eyes breathed it’s tempest on my chest and invested in me the power to breath ice and water from my mouth and hands. A dragon of magma engulfed me in his flames but I was untouched. I saw my self rising on pillars of fire and pillars of ice, and though I was delirious, I can still swear one hand feels awfully cool and another unbearably hot. Like I’ve been touched by some magic I’ve forgotten how to use.

But I’m up now. My face slumped on the keys of my laptop in an ocean side cafe. 2 brutes in motorcycles rocking righteous jesus pieces have just bought 2 creamy mochas and left a couple treats for the britain cubs running about the cafe.

You can never judge a book by any over. You got to read it. You got to bleed it.

So how did I get here? Did these words right themselves or are they writing me?

I embrace the confusion. Wipe some crust from my eyes as a child, one of the brits, is poking me.

Thanks for the shells mister!

What do you mean?

You’re silly mister, you walked over and gave us these shells just a minute ago. Is it hot having all that hair?

What’s your name mister?!

My name?

I think you’re a buffalo!

Hmm. I suppose I am.

Life is but a dream and for the life of me, I can’t remember a thing.