When Humans Sleep In

Wind blew over the plains and the grass rolled in shining waves. I bounded across the green sea, the wild blood of my ancestors pulsing through my veins. I caught sight of movement, and only then realized it was not the wind whipping about the blades of grass, but a nest of mice.

My instincts took over. I lowered my graceful body close to the ground, entering the stalker’s state of mind, nay, of being. Losing not another second, I leaped after the rodents. On and on I pressed, chasing my prey as fast as my powerful legs allowed, yet the distance remained. The tiny burgers were faster than I was.

The ground was no longer there. The emerald waves had turned into actual water. I floundered in the strange, viscous mass, until I found my sea legs. My prey was no longer mice, but a school of fish, and they swam circles around me, taunting me with a speed I could not match.

When I woke, I was glad to feel the familiar warmth of my furry blanket. I looked at the clock and what I saw shocked me more than any nightmare: it was 10:30. My breakfast was thirty minutes late!

It still haunts me.

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