I tumbled through the clouds, heart racing, the moon shrinking further and further away, the ground getting closer and closer, until–
I stopped. In mid-air, hovering just above the clouds.
Was I… flying?
I took an experimental dive, scraping the clouds with my hand, feeling the cotton-candy texture stick to my hand. I laughed, licking the sugar off my fingers, shooting upwards at the speed of sou—
Oh, this is a dream, isn’t it?
Yeah, this is definitely a dream.
I sighed, still hovering, waiting for this realisation to kick me out of my dreamscape and put me back in my bed. After a few moments… it didn’t happen.
I was still flying.
My brain raced with the possibilities – a dream I could control! A dream where I was in charge of what happened to me, what moments from my past I could relive!
I concentrated, harder than I ever have before, trying to bring up something joyous.
When I opened my eyes, I was waiting for an eye test at my local Brighton optometrist.
‘Dammit,’ I huffed.
‘What’s the matter?’ the optometrist asked, positioning the strap for my chin. I dutifully placed my head on it, with a sigh.
‘This just isn’t where I expected to end up tonight, that’s all.’
‘Oh?’ he laughed. ‘And what were your plans today Timmy?’
Timmy? Nobody had called me Timmy since I was a—
I looked at the man across from me more closely, and my palms went cold: he was a paediatric optometrist.
And I was a little kid again.
‘Noooooo!’ I screwed up my fists and swung my feet in the air, not even bothering to fight my irresistible urge to tantrum.
‘Timmy!’ my mother chastised me from a chair against the wall. ‘Behave yourself!’
‘I wanna wake up now!’ I whined, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
‘If you’re good, I’ll give you a lollipop,’ the optometrist soothed. ‘Does that sound like it’d be good?’