The Clock
The time was 7:14. She drifted in and out of the dream. The sun rose and set and rose again. The shadows on the wall lengthened and shortened. But the hands on the clock never moved. She turned and rolled to the opposite side, dozed off and woke again to the same time. She stared at the clock for a full three minutes until the uncontrollable urge to sleep possessed her and her eyes closed to dream again...
She was on a sailboat. Midnight and full moon. Southern Cross and devil breezes. She lay on deck staring at the stars, conscious of the fact that she couldn't move anything but her eyes. Her body was heavy and motionless. The sea was still. The only sound was the soft waving of the ship's flag and the ring of rigging metal. The boat did not move. Clouds hung in suspense in an inky sky. She felt a faint electric current travel the length of her spine. She instinctively knew that when the current died she would die. But oddly, the thought did not distress her and she had no memory of what happened to her. She suddenly felt a pull like the tug of a sleeve and felt her body slip from under her. She soared weightless at high speed to the stars...
She woke with a jerk. Fine beads of perspiration covered her upper lip. For a split second she was paralyzed, cold and a tremor fluttered in her hands. A strong odor of seawater permeated the room. The aura of a blinding light haloed her eyes. But then she felt her body relax into warmth that stretched along her spine. The time on the clock was 8:26.
(c) Linda Gayton 2005