Now, perhaps the only thing more misunderstood than Stone Age emotions were Stone Age dreams. The first men and women surely struggled to comprehend their tired bodies shutting down, and wild, alternative realities overtaking their primitive psyches. Two-hundred-thousand years later and we're still perplexed. And on this prehistoric night, Buzi dreamt.
His dream began as did his day: the tribesmen were navigating the hillside, preparing for their assault; Buzi looked side to side, sizing up his fellow men-at-arms; the chief yelled, and they were off. Once at full speed, however, his fellow hunters disappeared. Not only the crippled man, but his father, the chief, and all other groups vanished.
Buzi stopped his in-dream sprint and scanned the exposed swath of surrounding land. The grass then started to rustle and an arc of cheetahs erupted from the brush behind. Instincts took over and he took off running. The young man dared not look back, but in his periphery he felt the coalition of great cats gaining ground. Their paws thundered yet their claws cut in to the dirt with a subtle sharpness that Buzi sensed through his ears but felt down his spine. Their footfall crescendoed. And crescendoed.
And then it didn't. Continuing his pace, the only sound to be heard was his labored breathing and his feet pounding the savanna floor. Yet when Buzi looked to the ground, he discovered not two, but four legs propelling him forward. Though disoriented by the sight, he couldn't resist pushing his pace. The warm African wind rushed over his face and tickled his whiskers. His senses heightened, and using his elongated tail for balance, he skirted around bramble of briars, hurdled an outcropping of rock, and blasted through a thicket of tall grass. He then stopped in his tracks.
Standing directly across the clearing ahead was himself. In human form. Buzi rotated his ears, focusing all of his attention on the familiar-looking man. He licked his elongated canines, and bristled the spotted fur on the back of his neck. However, the young human hunter, lacking his sharpened spear, began to slowly approach devoid of all fear. Cheetah Buzi's hind legs crouched down, primed to pounce. A soft breeze rustled his fur. Homo sapien Buzi took another step closer, and another. Acinonyx jubatus Buzi wasted no time and leapt toward the stupid, defenseless human who greeted the ferocious feline with open arms. But as the predator fell on the prey, there was no clash of sharp teeth or protracted claws; just a rough cat tongue, vigorously licking the length of a human face.
Buzi awoke, fully human again. The Sun God was just beginning to rise, and he sat up and regarded his two legs, lack of fur, and absence of a tail.
Nothing new. Nothing special.
He greeted the new day with much more uncertainty than the morning before. But Buzi was now certain of one thing: he was going to fuck that cheetah.
