I get into bed, ready to rest after a long weary day. My head hits the soft pillow beneath it and immediately the fog that separates reality from dreams settled in over my consciousness. The stage was set and the adventure began without my consent or knowledge. Off to the dreamland I fell.
I am in a familiar place...yet surrounded by unfamiliarity. I know definitively that I am in my hometown, but the world around me looks completely alien. Everywhere I look I see the images of everyday life but in unnatural colors. My eyes have become like a stagnant kaleidoscope; where the sky is red, the grass is blue, and the buildings form a misshapen mosaic on the horizon.
I look out at the city's skyline from the bow of a large yacht speeding and bouncing through dark green waves. The red sky and a blue sun cast rays of purple sunlight on every building that I can see. For the moment I bask in the beautiful picture set before me.
For an unknown reason it becomes evident to me that the yacht has become instantaneously dangerous. I huddle with a group of women at the bow of the ship for safety. A terrorist duo has decided to take over the yacht; they begin throwing the injured bodies of its former passengers overboard. One is a gray-haired gentleman of stern behavior and demeanor. He has a stiff gait, tall with a barrel chest. His partner is a formidably tall blonde woman whose every movement is sharp and resolute. They came upon our group, shivering in fear of their weapons. They decided they need hostages and we are the ones to be kept alive from the takeover. As the ship leaves the harbor I looked back from the stern, contemplating my new unindentured servitude.
An unclear amount of time goes by in flashes of memory. In each one I am working on the ship at sea as a slave to the two terrorists. The water surrounding the ship becomes the shackles that keep us slaves enchained. With each passing flash of memory a stirring of emotion creeps into my heart as I feel the presence of love grow and grow. I come to love one of the fellow slaves on board; a young woman of blurred face yet immense beauty. I know which woman she because her love shines in my vision like a glowing aura. And yet her face is kept unclear, unwilling to be fully perceived. The flashes continue as the years of service drift on and our love grows stronger. Flashes of me comforting her in times of illness and sharing rations of food with her bring forth feelings of joy and requiescence; even though we have nothing we still have our love.