Safe… secure… serene

Monday: 11:58 pm…

Wonderfully weightless — I find myself wafting on the airwaves — slowly sinking lower — ever closer to the ground. I’m a feather, floating freely — to and fro — until I’m almost brushing the treetops. A few gentle sculling strokes of my arms, effortlessly propel me swiftly skywards. In moments, my supine body is once again above the slumbering world below… a balmy breeze caresses my upturned face. The dazzling diamonds of The Southern Cross constellation reassuringly smile down at me.

Safe. Secure. Serene.

Curiosity nibbles at the edge of my languid mind. How high up have I floated? I barrel roll over to survey the black and white nocturnal scene far below me. Houses are gingerbread monopoly pieces; perfectly formed play dough fir trees are dotted around with inky black liquorice strings weaving in and out, round about. A pale car rests far beneath on the shadowy ground … sleeping soundly. All else is fast becoming too distant to discern details accurately.

A prickle of apprehension creeps up my spine, inches across my scalp… a hairy caterpillar, itching uncomfortably.

No longer safe; secure; serene!

Like a summer swimmer, unsuspectingly caught in a rip — earth’s tether stretches, thins… threatens to snap. Time to act! Unhesitatingly, I swoop into a free fall dive — unerringly drawn back towards the red tiled roof of the house I call home.

***

Tuesday: 6:36 am: Golden rays bathe my face with warmth. It seems only moments since I turned out the light, in an optimistic bid to gain a refreshing night’s sleep. Yawning widely and long — I bask luxuriantly in the residual pleasure that lingers after, yet another dream spent airborne. I feel relaxed in a strangely liberated manner.

Too soon, time exerts his tyrannical grasp… the clock and I race each other. Butter slathered onto hot toast, melts into thin slices of cheese. Snatching quick bites, the delicious aroma chases me as I dart through the house. Another workday beckons. Hurried strides whisk me past a nondescript white van parked outside old Mrs Vermeulen’s picturesque cottage next door. Busily mentally compiling lengthy lists of tasks — I’m barely aware of my surroundings… already focused another ‘day at the office’.

***

Dusk is casting his cloak over the fading day, as I plod home, far too many hectic hours later. I toss a friendly but distracted wave in my neighbour’s direction. I vaguely register that she’s peering under her wooden verandah — whistling and calling her precious Ragdoll cat, Cuddles. A regular nocturnal occurrence.

***

Wednesday: 2:27 am…

Yes! Once more, I’m euphorically afloat — amid wispy cotton wool clouds — satin-soft, pristine white magic carpets. My tranquility is suddenly shattered as a Tawny Frogmouth darts past me… swooping down to seize a juicy slug. Oom oom ooom. Its mate — perched motionless in a tree fork — calls back in reply…Whoo whoo whoo!

Gently paddling through the atmospheric ocean, I leave them to their domestic bliss and cruise around town… surveilling the peaceful village. All seems still and silence again reigns supreme. Ah… one tiny white van, winds its way to a house along the fringe of my neck of the woods.

Soon, my vista reverts to its monochrome photograph status. Misty. Mute. Motionless. Only I am mobile — swooping, twisting and twirling joyously. Several near misses with unexpected obstacles like the church spire and the Townhall clock tower deliciously spike my adrenaline levels.

***

Brrp, brrp, brrp! I groan and grope grumpily around, to silence the offensive object. Blearily, I blink myself into another day. In vain, I strain to recall elusive details of the dream interrupted when I awoke.

***

Persistent rapping on my front door, draws my attention to dear Mrs Vermeulen’s presence. Her pleasantly wrinkled face is drawn into an uncharacteristic, anxious scowl. Cuddles — her blue eyed, fluffball — has missed two meals! Unheard of! Her alarm is palpable. My fondness for my grandmotherly neighbour and her fluffy feline, sees me spending precious minutes I don’t have, scouring my home and yard… to no avail. Cuddles has inexplicably vanished. Uselessly, I pat Mrs V’s back… cold comfort!

Reluctantly, I rush off to work — leaving a string of promises trailing behind me. I will keep an eye out for Cuddles… I will ring Neighbourhood Watch… I will check with Animal Welfare. Guilt is a frequent visitor throughout the day. Something niggles, in the far reaches of my mind. A quick round of phone calls draws a blank. Cuddles’ whereabouts is a total mystery. Night falls fast… Cuddles’ absence casts a depressing pall over our neighbourhood.

***

Thursday: 3:00 am: With immense relief, I find myself tearing loose… flying free from the entanglement of the day’s stress and worry. The aerial view of the grayscale scene below is devoid of life. Dismal… reflective of my mood. Concern over Cuddles has spilled over into my nocturnal enchantment. Impulsively, I find myself flying to and fro across the rooftops and tall trees — searching, searching, searching.

There! On the far side of town! A nondescript van hunches furtively alongside a decrepit shack. I swoop down for a closer view. Movement. Seated outside, on a rickety wooden step, an unkempt figure clutches a silky bundle… rocking it back and forth. Shocked, but unable to intervene, I am drawn irresistibly back home.

***

Agitated — I awake in a lather of sweat — panting! Whilst struggling to recall my disturbing dream, strangely, Cuddles remains fixed in my mind. Unable to settle — despite dawn brightening the sky — I hurriedly toss some clothes on. Illogically, my feet lead me across the still, sleeping town. Past the silent playground; through the empty soccer field to a rundown building.

Awakening from a trancelike state, I behold Cuddles, contentedly curled up in the town Loner’s lap. The dejected lad is harmless enough and has clearly won Cuddles over. Bidding him farewell, the sociable feline slinks over to me - eager now for a tasty treat and her cosy bed. Rays of sunlight streak across our path as we wend our way homewards.… it’s a bright new day.

***

Friday: 7:00 am: As I open my curtains to greet another morning, I spy Mrs V, cheerily rocking on her verandah. Perched on her top step is another familiar figure — awkwardly patting a contented cat.

***

Saturday: 4:34 am: I am free… flying… unperturbed by the curlews’ bloodcurdling shrieks. I wander beneath a moonlit sky. Home is a bright red beacon — far, far beneath my weightless form.

Safe. Secure. Serene.

***