Her sky is made of silver, and her stars are made of foam.
Into the peace of her dream comes suddenly a great dark shape, cleaving the heavens above! It passes in bare moments, leaving behind it a tormented trail.
And with it a strange creature, thrashing as it falls from the sky into her domain. Into herdomain! In her dream she remembers her outrage, tastes it anew.
She seizes it and holds it still, despite its desperate thrashing. Now she sees it is a mere mortal, a man, fallen into her realm by chance and not design. She holds its face close and gazes deeply upon it. It is dying. Dying. Such is the fate of such beings, so she is told. Shortly it will enter the long blackness that, for her, is not fated except by choice.
Dreaming of it now, she remembers the slow access of a strange emotion roused in her by the creature. Angered, half-disgusted, half-pitying, she thrusts it up, up, up into the sky from where it came. It thrashes more, but as the moments pass it seems to calm.
She returns to her realm, leaving the man embedded in the surging sky. Then comes the cleaving shape once more, and at last the invader is gone.
Underwater, she dreams beneath a sky of silver.
She dreams, and longs for his return.
You can find a full listing of David's books - available for Kindle - here.