So one of us fell into the ocean. Bleeding. The waters were shark infested. Immediately, sharks from all directions swam towards the person. She had no chance.
Except the "sharks" weren't sharks. They were stingrays. Enormous ones. But in my dream, they were sharks. But stingrays.
As all hope was bleak for our fallen member, our saviour platoon of dolphins arrived. They were white, glistening dolphins, ready for battle.
Also, was our own "people" armada. Armed with mops.
They gave me one, and immediately I practiced poking and lashing out with my weapon.
The sharks kept coming. But they were stingrays. Like birds, but stingrays. But they were sharks.
We poked, hit, bashed, and finally one came flying in front of me; having been hit by someone else first. The shark was injured. But is was a stingray.
I took my chance. I smacked the creature right across the middle. It cried out in pain, ne last attempt at grasping for life. I bashed again.
More and more sharks kept coming, and it was not easy to fight them off with the mops underwater.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
All I could think of as I woke up, was "How in Poseidon's name did we stay underwater that long?"
No comments:
Post a Comment