Donkey Landing Gear

I seem to have a lot of trouble remembering the dreams that I have while on pain killers, and I have been on them a lot lately. There was a little snippet from this morning, however that was just sort of goofy and delightful and reminded me, upon waking, of the fantastic dreams that seemed much more common not so long ago. I was flying, one of my favorite dream pass times, out on the borders of the Dream City I seem to return to time and time again.

I was flying under my own power, done up in some all too small reed and paper wings. Brown and red, but more towards maroon. The sun, in full flight towards the horizon, was dodging large cumulus clouds that dotted the landscape. I was playing about the fringes of the large storm cells, ducking in and out of the scarlet and orange shadows, all while keeping an eye on a blimp with a rickety looking gondola dangling below its puffy outlines.

It, too, was much too small to lift the load it carried. I wove in and around the clouds, always trying to stay out of its sight, but keep it in mine. Soon I followed it down towards a small field lit by gas lamps around its square perimeter. As the blimp dove, a donkey was lowered out the front of the basket. I could hear it bray even as the thunder rattled in the clouds behind me.

I watched as the blimp dived towards the field, the donkey stretched in his sling, his legs reaching for the earth. The blimp flared its approach and I could hear the engines reverse. The donkey was lowered to the ground, as if its desire to stay on the ground would overcome the lift of the blimp once its downward momentum passed.

And, as I soared above the scene on my too small wings, not bothered by the physics of my own flight, the donkey did hold the blimp in place, Waiting patiently for the captain to decide to pull the animal aloft and resume his journey at a later date. It shocked me awake: this absurd violation of the laws of physics.