He woke up from a strange dream or perhaps in a strange dream - fact and fiction seemed to be indistinguishable these days.
The sun had shape-shifted in a flame and the sky outside his cave had an awkward color. Aside from that, it seemed to be raining ashes.
Tiny pieces of charcoal and almost invisible smoke were penetrating his hypersensitive airways. He coughed and spat out slime, making sure to give this little bit of moisture to his fruit trees. It had been very dry for a long, long time so his fruity friends could use every little bit of liquid that their roots could suck up from the earth. One thing was clear, just his urine alone wouldn't do the job.
Suddenly his earholes picked up a sound above him. A big orange bird soared through the sky, sparks flying all around it.
For a moment, Hypersensitivosaurus thought that it was his friend Peter O'Ducktale but he soon realized that this mythical creature was of an entirely different level.
It seemed to own the sky.
For a while it seemed like the time was standing still. It was impossible to not look at the fire bird, it was mesmerizing. In a way, it felt like staring at the sun on a cloudless Summer day, wondering if you'd go blind. Gazing at it until you couldn't stand it any longer and had to either put on your sunglasses, close your eyes or look away.
This felt way more intense though. There was electricity in the sky, a powerful force, immensely beautiful and extremely scary all at once. It made you pee your pants - if you were wearing any - and enjoy the warmth of the urine running along your body, making its way down to the earth. All in all, a pleasurable experience, until the smell would reach your nostrils and you'd realize that your washing machine was broken and that there was no water around to wash yourself in.
And then, as sudden as it had appeared, the phoenix had gone again, taking the fire and ashes along with it.
It started to rain,
drop by
little drop.
The rain slowly changed into a down pour, washing away the stench of urine and nourishing the earth with its magical powers.
All was well.
Whether is was a nightmare or a wet dream, life was fascinating.
Boredom ceased to exist.
It was all just a matter of opening our eyes, ears, pores and everything in between, to start enjoying the magical unfolding that was and has always been happening around us.
The picture above this post was taken by me, today, in Avô, Portugal, where distant fires and a book I'm reading titled 'Courting the Wild Twin' inspired me to write this story.