There are Dolphins.

            Double post today. Not something I usually do, but I had a dream, an insane dream, and I must share. I usually write down my most vivid dreams.

I don’t dream like normal people, as I’ve said before, and this wasn’t a normal dream by any means.

In fact, this dream needs a little background to understand it—even then it’s not really understandable. I’m reading book two of the Sarantine Mosaic right now. Nearly done. It’s by one of my favorite authors, Guy Gavriel Kay. Book lore: dolphins are heresy, taboo, cannot be represented or depicted in any art, and not to be spoken of aloud. Dolphins are couriers, they carry souls through the oceans, to a god who drowned long ago.

My dream. I’m reading my book as I’m falling asleep, and I feel myself falling asleep. I can usually tell, because my mind starts going crazy and I’m aware of it. At this time I realize I’m slipping into a dream, and it’s already somewhat frightening. Extremely vivid, to a nearly tangible degree.

I’m on a sloop, surrounded by infinite colors swirling around me, above and below, creating what resembles, is, a wormhole. I ascertain that the sloop is going imaginably fast, the colors soaring by.

 I’m near the sloop’s bow. So is a woman. She turns, and I recognize her as my friend, only she’s dressed similarly to the empress in the novel I’m reading. An amazing dress of the richest, brightest blues and greens swirling to the contours of her body, sapphires laced through her long hair, which is down, sculpted around her face, framing perfection. She glows, is beautiful, her eyes endlessly deep and peering into me. I’m at a loss for words; I just stare and nod like I understand.

The dream is incredibly vivid even still, as if I lived it, saw everything.

“There are dolphins,” she says, so confidently, her voice musical. She smirks at me, turns away.

I don’t see the dolphins, but I feel them. “Why are we here?” I ask. I’m frightened. Amazed. Frightenly amazed.

“Our souls,” she says, almost a whisper. A hint of pain, longing. “Our souls are here.” She points ahead, down the chaotically colored wormhole.

I nod, stand beside her, stare ahead. We’re dolphins, I think. Our souls.