Last year I started a dream diary. This is the first I have written like this, since this is how it came to me.
The sound of waves crashing on rock. Slow and methodical; like a person's breathing. There was no other sound than that.
"Where am I?" She asked. She looked around for someone to answer, yet there was no one there.
"This is an important point in your life. People come here for those."
She turned around suddenly and there was a man there. He didn't quite have a face, or a body. He was just there.
She looked up, whatever that meant. It was entirely white. It felt like something was missing. Down, she suddenly realised that there was a ground beneath her. There was a small outcrop to one side, the water had carved beneath it. It looked like it was going to into the ocean, never to be seen again. The outcrop looked small, but perspective was strange here: it felt like everything stretched on forever. In front of her, the ocean was endless blue and white. And then it stopped. At a line. And she remembered.
"Isn't the sky usually blue?" A rushing sound filled her ears - or was it the waves just crashing against the beach? Something else was missing. Memory came back to her. "And isn't there normally grass?" Again a huge wave crashed against the outcrop, or perhaps a rushing sound filled her ears, and green stuff lined the ground beneath. It was tall, and swayed in the wind. Wind? She decided not to think about it too much. Things were different here.
She felt oddly at peace. The waves crashing; the outcrop, dangerously over the water, yet never falling in, still hanging on to what makes it it. The grass felt soft beneath her feet, and the sky was the bluest blue she had ever seen, mirroring the ocean below. She lay down on the ground, and stared up. She closed her eyes and matched her breathing with the waves. In. Out. The timing of it was perfect. She slept.