The bush I was sleeping in must have been more comfortable than what could have been expected because it wasn't long before I was taking a trip to dreamland.
It isn't all that common for me to dream, as far as I know, but when I do they tend to be fairly strange and this one decided to follow tradition. What happens is, I don't just dream one thing, I dream three or four dreams worth of random stuff and they all end up colliding together and meshing into one really long, super odd, confusing mess.
The walls of the room I was in were that 'We want the whitest white on earth' type of white. The little table just seemed like a little card table that could have been folded up and moved at a moment’s notice, and the small lamp hanging from the ceiling cast that interrogation room vibe into all the corners. Not to mention the room was small. Have I ever mentioned that I don't like small spaces, because this went to the top of my list of places never to visit twice.
It didn't take long before the door to the room opened, or I guess it didn't take long, you kind of loose all sense of time in situations like this. Anyway, the guy that walked in could have been that agent guy from the matrix movie's brother. Clad in official business suit black, shades that couldn't have been easy to see well out of, and a small folder with presumably important papers of some kind.
Standing opposite me across the table, he started off with a phrase that couldn't mean good things for me in the near future.
"Like causing trouble, do we?" Yes this guy should have gotten the part in the matrix.
"Uhh, not if I can help it. Did I do something wrong?"
"You are what is wrong. As each day goes by I see more and more of your kind. Well I've had about all I can take of your kind."
"My kind? What's that supposed to mean? It's not like I'm anything particularly special."
"Oh, aren't you?" laying on the thick sarcasm. "Your a freak. An abomination. You aren't meant to live on the same planet as the rest of the people out there. You are an animal!" And just like that instead of Grif occupying the space where I was, it was a bird. I was a bird! The agent guy lunged across the table, but I hopped out of the way just in time. Now, this is when things started to get a bit strange. I took to the air, but instead of smacking my face into the ceiling I burst right on through into clear open sky. Don't worry; it doesn't make sense to me either.
I flew for a while, happy to escape that terrible room and eventually landed on the branch of a tree. The tree just happened to be located on one of those little islands you'd find in the middle of the ocean for like a resort getaway hotspot. How I got there didn't really bother me nearly as much as what happened next. When I tried to go back to myself, I couldn't. It was like trying to bend your hand into that 'Live long and prosper thing,' but try as you might you just end up looking silly and struggling like a moron.
I started to panic and fell out of the tree, but landed on my feet. As a goat. If you think you can explain that one to me, go right ahead. So now, I'm a goat on an island with no way to leave, I can't return to my old self, and I'm probably on the verge of inducing a heart attack from sheer effort and stress. Great, my life is going to end as a goat on an island via heart attack. What a way to go.
Amongst my rising stress, turmoil, grief, and panic, it's no surprise that I never noticed the sound of footsteps coming up behind me in the sand.