A 'SPECS'TACULAR SURPRISE | ONC 2021

11 ¦ Swings Of Life

"So, shall we go dream surfing again tonight?" Aalo asked, settling herself cosily into the soft mattress of her bed. Dinner had been magical, and she was totally full. Her eyelids were drooping already.

"You want to go again? After last night?" Pompom hopped in beside her and stretched himself flat, putting one leg on the other in a relaxed manner.

"But we have so many dreams left to explore!" Aalo whined.

"So, did I say I won't take you?" Pompom copied the same tone in his nasal voice.

"I won't talk to you," Aalo puffed up her cheeks, folded her hands and shifted to the other side.

Pompom laughed, "You're so easily annoyed. You're fun to be with."

Aalo turned back slowly, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Why do you sound like an elder brother suddenly?"

"Because I'm older than you," Pompom grinned.

Aalo glared.

"Fine, go to sleep and I'll meet you in your dreams." Pompom sat up and slithered off the bed, disappearing under it. Aalo quickly closed her eyes, counting her imaginary sheep. Soon enough her consciousness faded into sparkling darkness and she was in the same starlit walkway where the dreams floated like glow flies. Today's dreams were looking exquisitely beautiful and shimmering, and Aalo was trying to decide which to choose when Pompom tapped her shoulder.

"These are so beautiful," Aalo bobbed up and down in excitement. "I can't choose," she complained.

"Then let the dream choose you?" Pompom bared his white teeth ear to ear.

"Means?" Aalo asked confused.

The Gyppie just waved his hands in response and the floating dreams stopped moving. Then they started floating towards Aalo. She took a step back in fear.

"Don't worry," Pompom reassured, "just hold out your hands and close your eyes."

The dreams in a million unique colours suddenly started revolving around her, bouncing and jumping in sprightly dance. There was something magical in that whirling and twirling motion that looked like a bunch of nursery kids in puffy dresses on stage. They were not perfectly choreographed in their motion, but yet they looked cute.

Aalo closed her eyes reluctantly and extended her hands. She could feel something smooth brush against her arms repeatedly. Some were hot, some cold, some medium. Some felt dense, others felt light like fog. Aalo could hear winds and the crashing of waves on the beach, the twitter of birds and the steady hum of bees, mixed with the honking of cars and the painfully loud screech of chalk on board. The sounds were a cacophony of mixed beats, of various dreams brushing past her until she felt something spongy stop at her hand. It felt like cotton candy or soft wool. She heard the familiar sound of a giggle and a voice that was oddly known to her heart. She opened her eyes and found a light greyish-green dream settled on her outstretched palm, which started growing like a cloud gathering moisture.

Aalo was standing on a street, and there was an iron fence in front of her. Pompom appeared beside her promptly.

On the other side of the gate were children, all younger than her- toddlers and preschoolers like little butterflies, jumping and running around, girls with frilly frocks and boys in their small shorts - little chubby faces and beautiful big eyes. And they were not alone. Each had their parents with them.

One father was lifting his son on the slide. The little boy clapped his hands and cried 'wheee' as he slid down and landed face down on the dust. Then he started wailing, and the father picked him up, rubbed his dirty face and lifted him on his shoulders, pretending to be a plane as he zoomed around the slide, holding the boy up on his shoulders.