GITJ Post 330: A Saturday at Melissa's, p.5 (3PM: A Dream)

He dreamt he was on hands and knees, crawling through the soft grass of a fruit orchard. The world smelled of spring flowers and, strangely, of fabric softener. A gauzy fabric, like a veil, obscured. His face was warm, very warm.

“Girls…! He’s over here..! On the couch…!”

“There he is..!”

“Shhhh, he’s asleep…”

“Haha Omigod..! He’s naked! I mean, below that towel…”

“And is that…a bra over his face?”

“It’s gotta be one of hers…”

“<giggle> It’s huge.”

“Omigod look how cute he looks. Like a little boy with his face in mommy’s bra.”

“Aww he’s got a picture of her too..!”

“My little son likes to do that…”

“Your baby?”

“…put his face in mamusia’s bra.”

“You have twins, right?”

In the orchard, he heard voices. The song-song voices of maidens. He looked up above himself, towards the bright blue sky, and could see them all silhouetted by the sun, as if through the gauze. They were looking down over him, shadows tall and beautiful.

“Look we have to take that off him, he needs to breathe.”

“Yeah he could smother.”

“C’mon honey, let’s take that off...”

“Omigod look, he’s trying to hold onto it. He’s still sleeping but-“

“Oh how cute!”

“I think he’s lost another inch”

“He may have, maybe two.”

“Shh shh shh…it’s okay, we’re here now. Let’s just get that off you…”

The gauze, slowly peeled away, now revealed angels made of light. They beamed down on him, one two three four…were  there more?

“Ohh sweetie how’d you get so small?”

“He’s had a hard week…”

“Oh my… is that why he shrinks? Because he feels stressed?”

“We’ll make him feel better, with kisses and hugs.”

“Ooo without the bra he looks worried. Look at that little face..!”

“He needs us.”

“Come on, come in closer…”

The scent of spring flowers was growing stronger as, slowly, the angels descended on him. They were warm, their voices like music and the tittering laughter of young girls at play.

“Omigod look…look at his towel…”

“The closer we get-“

“The harder he gets…”

“Jesus look at that…”

“Ooo yah let’s wake him up.”

“Oooo no no no let’s see if we can…”

“Yeah…”

“Without touching him…”

“Without waking him up…”

“Get closer girls.”

“Lay it on thick.”

“Ooo he has the face like my little chłopczyk…”

“That’s right, baby man, breathe deep.”

“…when mamushka comes close…”

“Omigod look how hard-”

“He’s starting to…look at his hips-”

“…when it’s time for ssać ssać.”

“Get closer…”

“I can’t believe he’s not awake…”

“Here he comes…here he comes…”

“Closer, girls..”

“Closer…”

“Come for wasze mamusie, chłopczyk…”

A sunburst, a sun shower, a rain from heaven warm onto his belly, and the laughter of young women that soon sang him back to sleep.

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